Photo by Oefe, user under Creative Commons license

Surprisingly: no beans

In retrospect, February may not have been the best time for a trip to Boston. But of course I didn’t think about that when a Porter seat sale prompted us to visit a new city. Yes, new city: somehow neither of us had ever made it to Boston.

The trip started out well enough: it was snowing when we left Toronto last Friday, but not so much that our flight from the island was delayed. We landed in Boston with no problems, fat fresh snow falling on banks built high in the previous week’s blizzard. My sense of direction is usually pretty good, but I was more than a little disoriented by the time our cab reached our hotel, the XV Beacon. Luckily, in addition to a ton of space and a nice gas fireplace, our room had a great view of Boston Common, so I was centered again. That fireplace, it turns out, would come in handy.

We were already hungry, so we homed in on a nearby place known for both good food and good beer for a late lunch. We took the long way, walking through a bit of the Common where we saw kids ice skating and guided tours of the Freedom Trail starting, before finding ourselves a barstool at Stoddard’s.  Our food was great, and they had some serious American craft brew on tap: I had a Narragansett porter and and a Left Hand milk stout, while Nellie had a Harpoon UFO Belgian white and a Brash “The Bollocks” IPA. We left there pretty fat and happy.

We walked a tiny bit of that off by circling the Common and Public Gardens, getting our bearings, figuring we’d do the heavy-duty touring the next day. We saw a little more of Beacon Hill, and had dinner at Bin 26, a wine bar not far from our hotel. It was okay, but didn’t blow either of us away. Still, any place with that many wines by the glass has to be commended, even if the wine list is like a puzzle. We walked back to our room in the chilly night, past the golden dome of the State House to our hotel, and planned our adventures for the next day while  the downtown lights gave us a little reminder of home.

Plan, schman. Turns out something the Weather Channel called “winter storm Plato” decided to show up and pelt Boston with a wicked (see what I did there?) blast of snow and cold. We set out with every intention of trying to see some of the Freedom Trail, but it was just too cold and windy…we got maybe a few blocks before the ice pellets stinging our eyes drove us inside. We couldn’t bear the thought of retreating to the hotel though, and decided to jump on the subway.

Needless to say, I had The Kingston Trio’s “MTA” playing in my head from the moment we bought that ticket. We decided to go way out to Allston, in the middle of Boston College and Harvard and a bunch of other schools, to try a place called Deep Ellum…the top-rated beer place in Boston. It was a long, brutal walk through the storm from the train stop to the pub; getting through a door never felt so good. It was packed with students scarfing down hangover brunch, but we found two seats at the end of the bar. Despite being twice the age of anyone else in the place we got asked for our ID. Incroyable!

The beer selection was impressive: the draft list alone consisted of a couple dozen American craft brews I’d never even heard of, and we  took full advantage. I had a Jack’s Abby “Smoke and Dagger” smoked lager, a Pretty Things “Saint Botolph’s Town” rustic dark ale, a Rising Tide “Daymark” rye APA, and a Jack’s Abby “Saxonator” dopplebock, while Nellie had a Wormtown “Petite Belma” IPA, a High and Mighty “Beer of the Gods” German ale, a Pretty Things “Baby Tree” quadrupel, and a Green Flash “Palate Wrecker” IPA. Food-wise we had a nice soft pretzel, some sausage & mustard, and poutine (!) with duck gravy. We wrapped up with one more (another Palate Wrecker for Nellie, and a stout on cask that I don’t quite remember) before starting the return trip. It was still brutally cold, but at least the ice pellets had stopped hitting us in the face.

We got back to the hotel and made full use of it for the rest of the afternoon, taking long hot showers, curling up in front of the fireplace, watching travel shows about warm destinations. We weren’t up for another excursion when it came to eating dinner; luckily Mooo (a new steakhouse) is in the hotel’s basement, so we ate there. It was pretty decent: Nellie had lobster bisque and filet mignon, while I had short rib croquettes and prime sirloin, paired with a 2007 Heitz Cabernet Sauvignon. After spending the whole afternoon at Deep Ellum we needed that food in our stomachs too.

We went out the next morning with every intention of doing at least some of the sights on the Freedom Trail, but didn’t get far…it was still fantastically cold. We got as far as the Boston Massacre site and turned back for the hotel. A shower and some packing later and it was time to go. I have to say, the whole process of flying out — from getting to the airport (in the hotel’s Lexus SUV house car) to checking in (no lineups, and friendly, funny TSA agents!) to waiting to board (lunch at a Vino Volo and painless boarding) to the super-smooth flight — was one of the most painless travel experiences we’ve ever had. Always good when a trip wraps up like that.

So, while it wasn’t a bad trip — indeed, we had a lot of fun — it was certainly limited by the weather. Clearly we’ll need to go back, not just to see what the city is like in the warm sun, but also to further explore a feeling we both had almost immediately about Boston…that it feels an awful lot like Halifax. I guess that makes sense — both are old North American cities, not terribly far apart, designed largely by the British around the mid-18th century — but we still both had the strong feeling of familiarity almost immediately upon arriving. The commons in the middle of the city, the public gardens, the waterfront, the wealth of colleges (though Boston’s are certainly more prestigious), the unusually strong ties between the cities with traditions like the annual Commons Christmas tree and the love of Boston sports teams in Nova Scotia…it all made Boston feel familiar to two people who consider Halifax kind of their spiritual home. And just as we’d never assume good weather before travelling to Halifax, but trusting to find its’ charm indoors and out, so we’ll plan a return trip to Boston someday.

.:.

Photo by Oefe, user under Creative Commons license

Is it spelled Thirphy? Or Thurphy?

Well, that was quite a weekend.

(Again.)

For Nellie’s birthday weekend I had decided to surprise her by flying two of her best friends — the Murphy girls — in from Halifax.  My plan was well-thought-out and probably would have come off cleanly but for two things: a massive snowstorm wreaked havoc with flights into Toronto on Friday, and Nellie started drinking at Bryden’s with co-workers at noon. So now I was dealing with two forces of nature messing with the plan.

Fortunately I steered Nellie (along with half a dozen of her co-workers) to AAA and enlisted their help with the surprise. It wasn’t easy, but we kept her under control and oblivious while, after an epic travel ordeal, the girls arrived. There was an long, amusing moment when Nellie didn’t recognize one lifelong friend but did recognize the older sister, but that was soon overcome. And then the crying started. And lasted for about ten minutes. We finally got ourselves out of there and trudged through the snow back to our place, where we opened wine and listened to music and watched Nellie run and up and down the hallway yelling “Best! Birthday! Ever!” (vraiment?) The co-workers retired shortly after 1AM and we finally let the weary travellers get some sleep.

We dragged our asses up the next morning, not feeling our best but determined to maximize our day together. Some Fahrenheit coffee helped wake us up, and peameal bacon sandwiches from Carousel settled our tummies. We spent the afternoon catching up, napping, watching The Hunger Games, and scratching cat bellies. Eventually Nellie needed a little more nap action, so the Murphy girls and I walked through the quiet downtown to one of their favourites: Chipotle. After eating one of their near-football-sized burritos we were all worried about our ability to take on our big dinner planned for that night at Richmond Station.

We’d been meaning to try this place since it opened — it’s so close to us, and had been getting great reviews. The four of us met up with two more friends, MLK, and decided on the chef’s menu + wine pairings for the table. And manomanoman, were we glad we did. In retrospect it would have been a grand idea to write down the courses, but I was too busy eating. I skipped the oysters but loved the lobster puffs, paired with an Organized Crime Fumé Blanc. There was a great honking pile of a few different salads, replete with fried head cheese, paired with a fantastic Chablis. Then the main course: an enormous platter of pork…pork in all various forms, including kielbasa flowers (which is what I’m naming my band someday) and wild boar loin…it was epic. It was also paired with a truly stellar Rosewood Riesling. We were all about to pop, so luckily the next course was a small but tasty sampling of cheeses, paired with a Gamay. Finally, dessert: and while we didn’t let the kitchen know it was Nellie’s birthday, it was as if they’d customized it to her. De-constructed carrot cake, de-constructed apple pie, and a lemon mousse-ish thing with a crispy camomile foam. We each ordered a glass of Lailey late harvest Vidal. And then we were well and truly done. It was an outstanding meal, and I see us going back a lot from now on.

This morning was a little easier to face, but we were still full from the night before. Finally, around 10:30, hunger drove us down to Hank’s for breakfast. Then it was time for the Murphy girls to return home, thankfully with clearer skies than those which welcomed them here. We were said to see them go, but the whole weekend’s effort might have been worth it just for this moment.

Thurphy girls

Happy birthday, Nellie.

Bachelderannalia

About a year ago when Thomas Bachelder released his three 2009 Chardonnays we put one of each away, intending to open them about a year later with our friends Kaylea & Matt.

Last night we opened them, and we called it Bachelderannalia.

We actually started off with a 2008 Benjamin Bridge sparkling rosé. Well, the girls did; Matt and I had beer. Both went with the different cheeses we’d picked up — a cloth-bound cheddar, a triple creme, and something American that tasted like espresso. But then it was time to get into the main event.

We tried each one, made our notes, guessed at which was which, and picked our favourites. In the end, both Kaylea and I picked the three wines correctly. While we disagreed somewhat, the Niagara chard was collectively declared the favourite.

While we finished off the bottles, Matt cooked up a bunch of his homemade sausage, all of which was fucking delicious. We drank Tawse Members Select Chardonnay and Five Rows Pinot Noir, and an ill-advised bottle of Marynissen Cab Franc. The evening ended abruptly when Nellie yelled “Danger!” and stalked off to bed.

It was a fun night, an interesting lesson in terroir, and a perfectly good excuse to eat a huge pile of sausage. Success!

Photo by Brendan Lynch, used under Creative Commons license

“Life has a gap in it… It just does. You don’t go crazy trying to fill it.”

After the unpleasant taste The Master left in our mouths, it was nice to move on to a wonderful piece of work like Take This Waltz (imdb | rotten tomatoes). Sarah Polley really needs to direct more…we could do with films such as this and Away From Her more often than every five years.

Michelle Williams and Seth Rogen and Luke Kirby were all good, but the real surprise was Sarah Silverman. It was a small part, but damn, it was a great one and she nailed it. The other star of the film: Toronto. I’ve never wanted to live in the city I live in so much as when I watched this film. It even makes me want to visit hipsterville Queen West.

See it.

.:.

Photo by Brendan Lynch, used under Creative Commons license

Photo by mrmanc, used under creative commons license

“He’s making all of this up as he goes along. You don’t see that?”

While The Master (imdb | rotten tomatoes) featured some of the best acting performances I’ve ever seen, I don’t think I could ever recommend it to anyone. It was…bizarre. Not nearly as good as the original teaser had made me hope. It was interesting (to me, anyway; Nellie began counting lightbulbs in the theatre) as a somewhat critical comparison to Scientology, but drifted badly in the last twenty minutes or so. It certainly looked amazing, in 70mm on the Lightbox screen.

We had dinner after at Luma, right there on the same floor of the Lightbox. It was…fine. Not great. Not bad either, though we did make the mistake of booking dinner during Winterlicious, so the restaurant was somewhat more frantic than usual.

.:.

Photo by mrmanc, used under creative commons license

Photo by Sajjad Ali Qureshi, used under Creative Commons license

“I’m the motherfucker who found this place, sir.”

I was excited to see Zero Dark Thirty (imdb | rotten tomatoes) today, but also a little nervous. I was worried that it would be like The Hurt Locker — heaped with critical acclaim that I didn’t quite share*. I also worried that it would be too jingoistic, given the subject matter.

But nope: my fears were allayed. I thought it was really good, a nine-year procedural that somehow maintained pacing and suspense in spite of the audience knowing the full outcome. It was stark, which made it raw and helped it avoid any of the myriad traps it might have fallen into in the hands of another director.

As for the controversy that’s sprung up around the film’s depicted use of torture, I’m not sure I understand the criticism. Everyone knows the CIA and American military were using torture as a method of extracting information in the years following 9/11. The film depicted this, but didn’t seem to glorify it — some characters are clearly disturbed by it, at least at first, and the CIA operatives actually refer to it dispassionately as a potential political minefield. I’m not defending torture in any way, nor am I saying those people were right to be dispassionate, if in fact it happened that way. I’m saying that’s almost certainly what was happening, and would prefer the film has the guts to face up to that ugly truth rather than gloss over it. I didn’t even get the sense that the film was drawing a straight line between torture and the killing of Osama Bin Laden, though some are accusing it of such. More likely, they’re attacking the misinterpretation of the film by people like Congressman Peter King who’re making the case for more torture.

However, you can’t fault a film when politicians twist the story to fit their own narrative. All you can do is respect it for telling a long, ugly, problematic, grinding story without falling into Hollywood cliché.

* I didn’t like Hurt Locker when I saw it at TIFF. I really liked it the second time I watched it, but it’s faded a bit in my mind since.

.:.

Photo by Sajjad Ali Qureshi, used under Creative Commons license

Photo by twiddleblat, user under Creative Commons license

Finally.

The NHL is back. Finally.

This Saturday arenas will be filled with hockey games, including Montreal facing off against Toronto. Finally.

The Canadiens have ended the Scott Gomez experiment, as I (and every other Habs fan) had hoped. They’ll have to eat his salary, but at least it should no longer be a distraction. Finally.

The fans are ready.

The TV networks are ready.

The players probably aren’t ready but they’re certainly eager.

NHL hockey. Finally.

.:.

Photo by twiddleblat, user under Creative Commons license

Photo by zoe toseland, under under Creative Commons license

“Well, I know the Bible says Jesus turned water into wine, but it didn’t say liquor store wine.”

Yet more of the best of the 2012 films:

  • Bernie (imdb | rotten tomatoes) was more or less a true story, and probably the best work Jack Black has ever done. It’s full of East Texas quirk and humour and small-town whispering and, as it turns out, murder. Very entertaining.
  • It seemed difficult to understand how Skyfall (imdb | rotten tomatoes), a James Bond film, could score a 92% on Rotten Tomatoes. Granted, Casino Royale rated a 95%, but I think had more to do with genuine surprise at the success of the reboot with Daniel Craig as Bond. When Quantum Of Solace more or less sucked — or, rather, turned out to be a generic old Bond film — I think everyone assumed the party was over. But Skyfall impressed me by stitching together the best of the rebooted franchise (humanity and a feel of real physicality) with the best of the classic Bond themes, all while adeptly referencing the past films. I was quite pleased with it, as someone who both appreciates real film-making and who has a soft spot for classic Bond.
  • Over time The Invisible War (imdb | rotten tomatoes) will likely gain the label of “essential” documentary as a result of its social impact. At least, I hope it will.  It certainly deserves to, as it tries to reveal a crime that’s too often covered up: rape in the US military. Now, it’s not exactly a secret that rape occurs in the military, but what the documentary makers focus on — and what shocked me — was the absolute lack of action taken by a military hierarchy which admits the problem. So either those in charge are unable to fix the problem, or they’ve accepted that it’s a natural side effect of putting women and men in such close quarters. That sounds ridiculous, but it’s a view that was actually endorsed by a Fox News analyst this year. Be warned: this isn’t an easy documentary to watch, but it’s vital that everyone does.

.:.

Photo by zoe toseland, under under Creative Commons license