Another one bites the dust

I heard this week that Waterstones are closing their Irish branches - well, at least, the two that are in Dublin's city centre. The short-lived Borders in Blanchardstown was disappointing enough - but this is truly dreadful! I spent so many happy hours browsing their store in Dawson Street during my life in Trinity. Despite being owned by the same company as Hodges Figgis across the street, they always seemed to have more of what I wanted. And their coffee shop - while no gourmet heaven, by any means - was always quiet and reliably empty, so great for the chats, some cake, or a cup of their curiously delicious almond tea.

Obviously I'm a huge fan of amazon and their services, but it's a sharp shock to realise that the price of such conveniences may well mean the continued and mounting future closures of such cherished physical locations. Sign o' the times, perhaps, but it's disappointing. Thank heavens James Joyce mentioned HF in Ulysses - one can only hope that such references might keep their doors open a little longer!

Foodie Friday - SUR, West Hollywood

It was one of my lovely flatmates' birthday last Saturday, so we went out for dinner in Sur, a restaurant and bar in WeHo. It has the dubious claim to fame of being the domain of one of the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. (The English one, with the dogs and the ex-live-in-Cedric). The whole place is quite impossibly LA - white linen everywhere, chandeliers, FAR too many mirrors for an eatery - unless, of course the clientele are more likely to look at themselves than actually eat anything... - random ethnic art. Think Buddha-Bar, via Marrakech, via Paris...

There were rose petals and flickering candles throughout, and when a bizarre party of young Asian people with one dodgy-looking white dude stayed at 'our' table too long, they swiftly magicked up a new one for us, out on the non-patio patio area. We all squeezed in and started perusing the ENORMOUS menus. A very nice bottle of prosecco came quickly, but water was rather harder to come by. For all that, the staff were very good to us. A legion of gym-prepped, beautiful people who make up in beauty what they lack in smarts.

I ordered the lamb, which was amazingly prepared and presented. For some reason I thought I'd be virtuous so I didn't actually get fries with it - I had broccoli and mashed potatoes - but it was all really good. For dessert a display of delicious cupcakes and a flare had been prepared for the birthday boy. Very chic, obviously. Less chic - but far more LA - is the fact that during our meal that doyenne of class, sophistication and erudition, Snooki de JerseyShore, showed up for dinner. Like many of the clientele in this rather dark, low-lit emporium, she never took her sunglasses off.

Afterwards we went to a rather famous club up the street. All of our party were carded, with the exception of the birthday boy and yours truly, who were waved in with a bored nod from the bouncer. Obviously we are now over the hill.

Happy Birthday!

30 Before 30 #7 - Green Card

This is probably the most difficult item on my list - to get a Green Card for the USA. But I don't think it's impossible! I'm curious to know if anyone has one, (has a spare one!), got one, finagled one, etc. There are numerous ways to make it happen, of course, but I'm not sure which is the best or most efficient to do so just yet.

It's ironic to think that the merit system in my primary school was also a green card (well - a carta glas) and that you filled it with stickers called molanos (from the Irish phrase "mol an oige agus tiocfaidh se - praise youth and it will advance).

Would the USA like to put the sticker on my carta glas, perhaps, and mol this youth?!

Wild Card Wednesday - Europe

I've spent a lot of time in the last month thinking rather wistfully about Ireland, Dublin and Europe in general. There is so much that I miss, and so much that I pretend is better than really it is, but regardless - I wonder where this year might take me. Part of me wants to take several months off after I finish the degree, whether to write or cook or meditate or even just sleep! I might travel somewhere wildly new, like Reykjavik or Buenos Aires, but really what gnaws at me most is how much I miss "l'esprit" in Europe. Los Angeles is wonderful, and fun, and I've met some truly remarkable souls here, but I wonder how long I'm meant to stay here.

Even if she is collapsing, Europe is calling....

Tuesday Tunes - The Sixteen

When I was first dreaming up the potential Oresteia that I planned to present at UCLA, I was listening to a lot of music by Kronos Quartet. I still remember the look on MZ's face - as we sat over dinner at the back of Leon - when I told her that this was the play I was considering! It made total sense, but it did perhaps lack any knowledge or concept of the place that it might be performed! (I am still going to direct the Aeschylean trilogy, but it won't be as my UCLA thesis. And that's a very good thing.)

My favourite piece by the Kronos Quartet is their version of Spem in Alium, a piece by Thomas Tallis. Realising that it was actually a choral work, I of course went off in search of a good version, and I think the best one I have found is by the Sixteen, an English choir who appear capable of singing just about anything.

My favourite album by them is called "Treasures of Tudor England" - not least for the fantastic portrait of Elizabeth I on the cover - which contains six long-form pieces that are heart-breakingly beautiful. That only sixteen voices can make that much sound is quite remarkable. But then I think of our sixteen Carmelites, and I marvel at their sonorous capacity also!

Movie Monday - Babette's Feast

I had seen the cover of Babette's Feast for many years in the World Cinema section of HMV in Grafton Street (which I am terrified will close soon) but it was only at the insistence of one of my directing professors at UCLA that I finally found time to see it.

It's a strange, dark, magical little film - about a maid who cooks the most impossibly extravagant dinner imaginable for the village she lives in. Of course the philosophical perspective of the piece is a discussion of how the artist sacrifices everything for their work, and how everything is sublimated in deference to the moment of presentation. I found it extremely profound, and the ideas it stimulates resonated very long after I saw it.

Oh, and it won the Best Foreign Film Oscar. So you know it's good! ;)

Sunday Spices - Mustard

Somehow we never really touched mustard in my house growing up. I was always scared that it was too strong, or something, and so it has arrived on my palette/plate rather later than really it should have. We ate plenty of pork, ham and hot dogs over the years, and I must raise a teaspoon to all those meals that might have been enlivened by the addition of a little bit of mustard!

I think I first must have tasted it in Eddie Rockett's on their burger, with its delicious house sauce. (The sauce is really only mayonnaise with a bit of mustard thrown in, but regardless, it's phenomenal.) This prompted me to go looking for other ways to get the flavour, or the sauce, and now I'm quite a fan. I definitely was treated to some amazing applications when, late at night, MS would order deliveries of astonishingly good souvlaki and things to her elegant apartment in Athens. Mustard makes everything sing! It's brilliant for marinating meats, dressing salads, or as a dip for sweet potato fries, or a sauce for hot dogs, but truly its finest application yet was in the sandwich I had last Sunday from Bay Cities in Santa Monica.

My current boss cut a swathe directly through the huge crowd of people and marched straight up to the counter, where there was a basket of ready-made hot sandwiches. (The crowd were all having theirs made to order, but PK knew better!) I am still quite a novice in the world of deli-based eating, but these sandwiches were remarkably put together - wonderful bread, excellent cuts of meat piled very high within, and then just enough mustard to make the whole arrangement sing without scorching one's mouth. Add in some Pellegrino and a few very fresh mini-macaroons, and you have a pretty spectacular lunch.

Got any mustard recipes that I should try?!

Seasonal Saturday - February

As January draws to a close, I'm quite excited for what this new month will bring. February 1st was always a quietly special day in our house, because it is St. Bridget's Day. My dad would always manage to bring home a bouquet of daffodils - just about ready to be in season! - for my mum, whose name-day it was.

I miss her dreadfully. But it's lovely that there's a whole day, even in the darkest depths of winter, that is entirely hers and always has been.

Foodie Friday - Cafe Leon

Sometime early in 2007 I was introduced to Cafe Léon in Dublin by an inveterate tea-drinker, and fell instantly in love. Seemingly overnight, there were three of them- all within spitting distance of each other between Exchequer Street and Dame Lane. Their tea was good (in those posh silken teabags) and every hot drink came to your table accompanied by a little pyramid of Toblerone. Who wouldn't love that?

Of course, their largest venue also had a proper dinner menu (along with a sinfully indulgent array of pastries and cakes) - and was wonderful. Their croques, salads and particularly their Boeuf Bourgignon still make my mouth water.

Sadly, this yuppie heaven was a true bubble of fat as the Celtic tiger cooked in its own grease- by 2008 it was always jammed with the kind of people one originally went there to avoid, and the last time I was home in Dublin they were all gone. Mais à ne pas oublier!

30 Before 30 #6 - Learn 'Opera'

Originally the plan was that I would learn German as one of the dread 30. It still might factor in, somewhere. But for now I think it might prove more useful to acquaint myself actively with the opera repertoire. Being allowed to sit in on masterclasses at UCLA opera is very eye-opening. There's a whole history out there that needs my attention!

I learned 6 weeks of German early in my time at Belvedere, but instead chose to study ancient Greek for my remaining years there. And look where it got me... So certainly I'll come back to German (and Italian. And then probably Russian...) eventually. Since one likes to be able to communicate.

As well as the languages in which the libretti are written, there's the whole other language of operatic performance. I now know my Schwa from my fermata, and a whole bunch of other things. Thank heaven this opera is in French, otherwise I'd be totally sunk.