I went to my first opera last night, Bizet's The Pearl Fishers. It was brilliant. And amazing. And impactful. I've heard of people who are overcome by emotions when listening to music and I finally understood it. The harmonies were liquid; caressing your ears and your soul at the same time. The story was timeless; friends torn by love - one true love and one unrequited...of course it's the same woman. The resulting anguish shared through solos and duets tore through me. I was speechless last night but finally found my voice about it today and had to share. Thank you, Jane, for including me in your good fortune of amazing tickets. I have officially become an opera junkie and want to buy seasons tickets. And for once it's not just about the clothes (although that does help the cause).
Getting dressed was a blast - playing with all the options for both Jane and I as well as doing fun makeup and jewelry. Love being a girl.
We didn't have a ton of time for dressing so we didn't start with martinis. Our plan to go out to dinner was a little pressed for time as well, so we wound up at the concession stand ordering a martini and a pack of crackers to get us through. Back to the martini in a moment. The concession stands these days have a "pre-order" option for intermission! What?! It's fantastic. You can tell them what you'd like and prepay and they have it waiting on a table for you once you arrive during intermission. No line! So of course we had to try it and it worked.
But back to the martini. They didn't have martini glasses or vermouth. But the very helpful bartender did chill me a bit of gin, and dress the plastic cup with a lime. Timeless...just like the opera.
Martini - 6
Experience - 10.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Surprise!
I finished my first day of grad school yesterday. It started with a 2 hour delay. Thank you ice storm. We had a whopping 2 hours of accounting and then broke for lunch. Then quantitative methods...of which I am terrified. I have not been lulled by our gentle introduction...or the fact that I overprepared for class so I actually knew what was going on today. And then we got out 1 hour early!
So what does this have to do with martinis? Last night I went to Zink and had a New Fashioned martini. In light of my change of lifestyle (revert to student) I'm breaking all the rules on his one. Makers Mark. Decidedly not gin. Cherry schnapps. What is that? Orange liqueur. This drink is delicious. It makes me want to change my moniker from Gin Diva to Bourbon Belle. It even makes you feel southern. Oh - there's a cherry in it so as not to stray too far from it's old fashioned roots. But I didn't eat it. Well, either of them. Because of course, it was so good, I had two.
By the way the food at Zink is pretty great - very good food pairings.
Martini - 8.
So what does this have to do with martinis? Last night I went to Zink and had a New Fashioned martini. In light of my change of lifestyle (revert to student) I'm breaking all the rules on his one. Makers Mark. Decidedly not gin. Cherry schnapps. What is that? Orange liqueur. This drink is delicious. It makes me want to change my moniker from Gin Diva to Bourbon Belle. It even makes you feel southern. Oh - there's a cherry in it so as not to stray too far from it's old fashioned roots. But I didn't eat it. Well, either of them. Because of course, it was so good, I had two.
By the way the food at Zink is pretty great - very good food pairings.
Martini - 8.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Second glances (or glasses)
Tonight I took stake of the people around me. In a busy restaurant, with two different groups of people from the same company, enjoying a glass of wine (OK I had a martini), and communicating with each other in a way that is guarded yet real at the same time. It reminds me that we have layers so much deeper than the ones we live with and publish on a regular basis. Myself included. Should we live more openly, or are our inner selves just for that, ourselves? Tonight I won't pass judgement on that decision; it's personal. But when we are brave enough to unmask the inner workings, sometimes we discover that we have much more in common with the people around us than we might acknowledge or want to admit.
I appreciate the folks that I work with, although they may aggravate me with their politics or strong personalities (not that I don't have one). The loss of a sibling and then a father (whether it's a step parent or not) is a tragedy and a challenge for one to endure in two weeks' time. And, on a different note but adding to my sentiment tonight, I might not have known Doc Watson personally, his recent passing is poignant in my life nonetheless. My parents knew and loved him, and it makes me proud and sad that I managed to figure that out 3 years ago. Typically if I'm home, comfortable in a post-martini state, I'm listening to some jazz and recollecting on a martini. But tonight, Doc and the very real people in my life, take the honor.
My martini - 6. My reality check - 10.
I appreciate the folks that I work with, although they may aggravate me with their politics or strong personalities (not that I don't have one). The loss of a sibling and then a father (whether it's a step parent or not) is a tragedy and a challenge for one to endure in two weeks' time. And, on a different note but adding to my sentiment tonight, I might not have known Doc Watson personally, his recent passing is poignant in my life nonetheless. My parents knew and loved him, and it makes me proud and sad that I managed to figure that out 3 years ago. Typically if I'm home, comfortable in a post-martini state, I'm listening to some jazz and recollecting on a martini. But tonight, Doc and the very real people in my life, take the honor.
My martini - 6. My reality check - 10.
Monday, February 20, 2012
What do you get when you mix...
The play Cabaret, 5 martinis, two good friends, and an entertainer who prefers to sing parodies than actual lyrics? My Saturday night. I am so thrilled that our little morsel of the south continues to add culture, good food, and mild weather in February!
Kate and I had a wonderful dinner at Fiamma - although they are a bit pretentious (er shall I say proud of their cuisine) and then went to CPCC's performance of Cabaret. For a serious play mixed with some wonderful music and a dancing gorilla for levity, these performers did a wonderful job. The sets were fantastic as well. Now why can't we drink wine in the theatre? We should hook them up with the folks at Actor's Theatre...who knows - maybe a few more people would have laughed at the gorilla.
But after the play we went around the block to a new little spot called Smalls. This place is serious about their food, but in a really good way. I only tried one item on the menu (black and blue sliders anyone? YES!!) but it was tasty.
The martini list was fun, some classic elements, some experimental. Kate's opening act was this coconut rum based martini - never seen that before. She adored it - I thought it was too sweet. I had a gin and cucumber martini - good balance, a bit chunky from the cucumber puree though. Round two - Kate: vanilla vodka and pink lemonade - she didn't love it. I could drink it on the boat by the gallon (or one of those camel packs with the straw beside your face so all you have to do is turn your head and sip. Is that how Cleopatra felt?). I had the basil lemon drop. This one was with vodka and basil with a sugared rim. Very nice. Kate went back to the coconut madness for round 3; I slowed down here. And the grand finale was a custom made strawberry martini. Cue the boat scene- repeat. Yum.
So the martinis were good - 6. But the atmosphere here (and the food) will definitely bring me back. And if you go, I suggest you also bring Kate!
Kate and I had a wonderful dinner at Fiamma - although they are a bit pretentious (er shall I say proud of their cuisine) and then went to CPCC's performance of Cabaret. For a serious play mixed with some wonderful music and a dancing gorilla for levity, these performers did a wonderful job. The sets were fantastic as well. Now why can't we drink wine in the theatre? We should hook them up with the folks at Actor's Theatre...who knows - maybe a few more people would have laughed at the gorilla.
But after the play we went around the block to a new little spot called Smalls. This place is serious about their food, but in a really good way. I only tried one item on the menu (black and blue sliders anyone? YES!!) but it was tasty.
The martini list was fun, some classic elements, some experimental. Kate's opening act was this coconut rum based martini - never seen that before. She adored it - I thought it was too sweet. I had a gin and cucumber martini - good balance, a bit chunky from the cucumber puree though. Round two - Kate: vanilla vodka and pink lemonade - she didn't love it. I could drink it on the boat by the gallon (or one of those camel packs with the straw beside your face so all you have to do is turn your head and sip. Is that how Cleopatra felt?). I had the basil lemon drop. This one was with vodka and basil with a sugared rim. Very nice. Kate went back to the coconut madness for round 3; I slowed down here. And the grand finale was a custom made strawberry martini. Cue the boat scene- repeat. Yum.
So the martinis were good - 6. But the atmosphere here (and the food) will definitely bring me back. And if you go, I suggest you also bring Kate!
Saturday, February 11, 2012
friends...with benefits?
Relax, ladies and gents. I'm talking real friends, with real benefits. Tonight was a good old fashioned wholesome night with a good friend. And the benefits of spending that time are immeasurable.
Tonight's martini was a classic. Gin, lime on the rim, splash in the vermouth and then excise it. But with a little Irish cheddar, some good roast chicken, and great company, who could ask for more. One of the beauties of friends that you don't see or talk to every day is that when you do get together, there are weeks of things worth talking about. We get to filter through the day to day drama, focus on the highlight reel, and laugh or bitch about the things that have happened since the last time you caught up with each other. And in the air in the background, unlike a martini in a proper bar, is the aroma of the chicken stock on the stove. That will lead us to our next get together, our next humble martini. And if I get to the ABC store in the interim, I'll restock on the good gin. Otherwise, it'll be New Amsterdam, good laughs, and some truffles from the Chocolate Fetish. Thank you, Asheville.
Martini - 8. Memories - off the charts.
Tonight's martini was a classic. Gin, lime on the rim, splash in the vermouth and then excise it. But with a little Irish cheddar, some good roast chicken, and great company, who could ask for more. One of the beauties of friends that you don't see or talk to every day is that when you do get together, there are weeks of things worth talking about. We get to filter through the day to day drama, focus on the highlight reel, and laugh or bitch about the things that have happened since the last time you caught up with each other. And in the air in the background, unlike a martini in a proper bar, is the aroma of the chicken stock on the stove. That will lead us to our next get together, our next humble martini. And if I get to the ABC store in the interim, I'll restock on the good gin. Otherwise, it'll be New Amsterdam, good laughs, and some truffles from the Chocolate Fetish. Thank you, Asheville.
Martini - 8. Memories - off the charts.
Friday, February 3, 2012
In memoriam
There are many occasions for drinking. We toast weddings, babies, new love, promotions, and new homes. We also might pour a little out for our peeps who have gone before us. Now, don't misunderstand my meaning for this blog in general. It is a serious pursuit for the perfect martini, but it is not serious. Periodically solemn occasions do permeate our blissful worlds; and on such an occasion as this, I would like to honor someone I could not honor in person.
When we choose to join with another family, it is a meaningful undertaking. There are ceremonies, promises, and changed priorities. We join not just at the surface, but in a bond that says, "I will call you Dad," even though I already have a dad, who's my actual Dad. But you are my Dad now too.
But sometimes through circumstances that seem (and may actually be) insurmountable by mortals, we may require ourselves to leave this family. Some may only leave part of the family. Some may abandon it entirely. The closest person I had in the family I left was my father in law. He was the hardest to leave, but I couldn't bear to keep in contact with him because the pain, and guilt, were too great for me. And on Tuesday, the magnitude of that decision became un-alterable. And as a result, I missed the funeral, I missed the second chance for goodbye.
But tonight I took some time to remember in my own solitude. I remembered his love for his family, especially his grandchildren. I remember him napping in his chair. The beautiful furniture he built. The way he always double checked the trailer hitch on the boat before we took it out, and the way he held his arm like a beacon when we brought it back to the garage. I remember the cradles and trucks he built for so many children in the hospital. He built me a porch swing, replaced my light fixtures, laid a tile floor that reminds me of Chenonceau. He loved the Beatles, all music, a capella groups, harmony, and good lemon meringue pie. Mixing lemonade and cranberry juice was his favorite cocktail. And don't ever serve him chicken. He tried countless ways to make my world better so that we could all stay in it together.
So tonight, although he didn't drink alcohol, I toast my lovely father in law, whom I cherished and always will.
When we choose to join with another family, it is a meaningful undertaking. There are ceremonies, promises, and changed priorities. We join not just at the surface, but in a bond that says, "I will call you Dad," even though I already have a dad, who's my actual Dad. But you are my Dad now too.
But sometimes through circumstances that seem (and may actually be) insurmountable by mortals, we may require ourselves to leave this family. Some may only leave part of the family. Some may abandon it entirely. The closest person I had in the family I left was my father in law. He was the hardest to leave, but I couldn't bear to keep in contact with him because the pain, and guilt, were too great for me. And on Tuesday, the magnitude of that decision became un-alterable. And as a result, I missed the funeral, I missed the second chance for goodbye.
But tonight I took some time to remember in my own solitude. I remembered his love for his family, especially his grandchildren. I remember him napping in his chair. The beautiful furniture he built. The way he always double checked the trailer hitch on the boat before we took it out, and the way he held his arm like a beacon when we brought it back to the garage. I remember the cradles and trucks he built for so many children in the hospital. He built me a porch swing, replaced my light fixtures, laid a tile floor that reminds me of Chenonceau. He loved the Beatles, all music, a capella groups, harmony, and good lemon meringue pie. Mixing lemonade and cranberry juice was his favorite cocktail. And don't ever serve him chicken. He tried countless ways to make my world better so that we could all stay in it together.
So tonight, although he didn't drink alcohol, I toast my lovely father in law, whom I cherished and always will.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
French Martini
10 days of vacation - well, 1 day of it on airplanes, and some time on trains, so let's say 8 days of vacation. In France. Ahhhh. No phone. No email. No friends. No family (except mom). No drama. I am breathing a deep sigh of contentment just remembering how that felt.
Our first day in Paris was an odd one. Not that it wasn't wonderful, it was just a bit odd. We dropped our bags at the (wHo) Hotel Windsor Opera (address unknown) and breakfasted, strolled, Musee D'Orsay, got lost trying to find said hotel (address still unknown), napped, showered, snack, Tuileries, dinner. Dinner was at a small restaurant called Brasserie Flo. We walked by it about 10 times earlier in the afternoon while trying to find the hotel that was tucked at the center of a snail shell-like but not quite circular 9th arrondissement neighborhood. The concierge at wHo said that Flo was "fantastique" and we would really enjoy it so he made us a reservation and out the door we went. And we walked in circles again for about 20 minutes before we found the place! Had we realized it was the restaurant we walked past earlier in the day so many times, we could have gone straight to it!
Alas, we went in, were seated smack beside a man and his mistress (oh la la) eating a decadent spread of shellfish. Mom ordered a carafe of water and I ordered my martini. Not even hesitating the server (very serious fellow) walked away with our orders and returned about 15 minutes later with an old fashioned glass with 2 ice cubes, about 1 inch full of clear liquid, and a twist of lemon.
I have googled french martini recipes, even googled them in French but to no avail. I have absolutely no idea what was in the martini...gin, vodka? It will remain a mystery - much like the French are a mystery to Americans (and vice versa).
French martini - Sept (7).
But there are a couple of other beverages that require mentioning - kir royale, rouge gorge, and a c'est la vie.
Kir Royale - Chateau Versailles - at the Salon de The accompanied by a Choc Africain (African chocolate cake - AHHH Bonkers good). We do have this drink in the US but it doesn't taste this good - it requires French Champagne.
Rouge Gorge - Aux Deux Canards, Paris - red wine (dry but fruity), gin, black loganberry liqueur (where the heck can I find this?)
C'est la vie - Lyon - on the terrace where we saw the mice (yes, plural) - strawberry liqueur, vodka, champagne. Um...yum.
Our first day in Paris was an odd one. Not that it wasn't wonderful, it was just a bit odd. We dropped our bags at the (wHo) Hotel Windsor Opera (address unknown) and breakfasted, strolled, Musee D'Orsay, got lost trying to find said hotel (address still unknown), napped, showered, snack, Tuileries, dinner. Dinner was at a small restaurant called Brasserie Flo. We walked by it about 10 times earlier in the afternoon while trying to find the hotel that was tucked at the center of a snail shell-like but not quite circular 9th arrondissement neighborhood. The concierge at wHo said that Flo was "fantastique" and we would really enjoy it so he made us a reservation and out the door we went. And we walked in circles again for about 20 minutes before we found the place! Had we realized it was the restaurant we walked past earlier in the day so many times, we could have gone straight to it!
Alas, we went in, were seated smack beside a man and his mistress (oh la la) eating a decadent spread of shellfish. Mom ordered a carafe of water and I ordered my martini. Not even hesitating the server (very serious fellow) walked away with our orders and returned about 15 minutes later with an old fashioned glass with 2 ice cubes, about 1 inch full of clear liquid, and a twist of lemon.
I have googled french martini recipes, even googled them in French but to no avail. I have absolutely no idea what was in the martini...gin, vodka? It will remain a mystery - much like the French are a mystery to Americans (and vice versa).
French martini - Sept (7).
But there are a couple of other beverages that require mentioning - kir royale, rouge gorge, and a c'est la vie.
Kir Royale - Chateau Versailles - at the Salon de The accompanied by a Choc Africain (African chocolate cake - AHHH Bonkers good). We do have this drink in the US but it doesn't taste this good - it requires French Champagne.
Rouge Gorge - Aux Deux Canards, Paris - red wine (dry but fruity), gin, black loganberry liqueur (where the heck can I find this?)
C'est la vie - Lyon - on the terrace where we saw the mice (yes, plural) - strawberry liqueur, vodka, champagne. Um...yum.
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