Le low
Well, that’s my bracket busted then.
My day started out just fine…great weather and a canceled afternoon-long meeting led me to hit the Real Sports Bar early. I emailed my team back at the office, telling them all to go home, and staked out a spot for CBJ+M (and, eventually, Nellie). We landed decent spots with a good view of the 2-acre TV. The fuzzy picture below just doesn’t do it justice. Just for scale, the smaller screens to the right and left are actually composite screens made of four 42″ plasmas each.

The food was decent for a sports bar, if rather overpriced (much like their neighbour, E11even). The beer list was entirely pedestrian, and it got a little douchebaggy later in the evening (douchebags are easy to spot, by the way: they drink Bud Light from those cobalt blue bottles), but there’s no question that it’s a great place to watch sports. There are screens everywhere, including over each urinal in the privy. We had a free round sent over by some friends at another table, and reciprocated with tequila shots; thankfully the niceness arms race stopped there. We were also about to place an order for medium chicken wings when our server showed up, asking if we would like a free order of medium chicken wings which had accidentally been ordered for someone else. Either we were very lucky, or we were momentarily able to make things appear at our table just by thinking about them. I tried thinking about Mila Kunis carrying a bottle of 1982 Chateau Margaux but it didn’t work. Still, we were having pretty good luck and enjoying ourselves a great deal.
But then things went from bad (Ohio beating Michigan) to worse (my Duke Blue Devils losing to #15 seed Lehigh). The nuclear-level problem was Missouri losing to Norfolk State; I had Mizzou going to the final four. Granted, so did a lot of other people in my pool, but my day overall — 5 and 11, after going 13 and 3 the day before — shot me to the bottom quarter of the standings.
Nellie, on the other hand, is near the top. She always does better in the pool than I do; I should just stop entering and save myself the $20 each year.
How to fix the Montreal Canadiens, 2012 edition
As I type this I’m watching the Montreal Canadiens play their 13th-last game of this dreadful season — they currently sit last in the Eastern conference and 28th out of 30 in the NHL. They have no hope of making the playoffs. They ditched some trade bait at the deadline and have picked up some decent prospects and picks (five picks in the first two rounds in the upcoming draft) so that’s cause for optimism. Still, more changes are made if they’re going to make the playoffs. Not that the Habs management is calling me up for advice, but here’s what I (and, I think, anyone who’s thought about it for twenty seconds) would do:
- Trade (or, worst case, buy out) Scott Gomez. His 0.297 points per game for $7.5 million just doesn’t work. You can’t play him ahead of Desharnais or Plekanec, and you’d be holding back Eller’s development (not to mention Louis Leblanc’s) if he’s not the #3 centre. Unless Gomez wants to take a pay cut and become a defensive specialist (hee!) on the fourth line he needs to go.
- Try to get something — anything — for Kaberle, Campoli and Nokelainen. At the very least let Campoli leave town.
- Move Rene Bourque to the 3rd line. Bourque, Eller and Travis Moen (if they can keep him around) would be a very good, very physical 3rd line.
- Use some cap room to sign a second-line winger to play with Tomas Plekanec and Brian Gionta. A scoring winger with some size would give the Canadiens a second scoring threat to compliment the Pacioretty-Desharnais-Cole top line. Add the afore-mentioned third line and an intimidating fourth line featuring Ryan White and Brad Staubitz (if he re-signs) and your forward lines are actually in pretty decent shape, I think.
- With P.K. Subban, Andrei Markov, Josh Gorges and Alexei Emelin the core of the defense is solid, if a little fragile. Assuming Kaberle and Campoli leave town, Montreal would need a veteran 5th D-man to bring along prospects like Raphael Diaz and Jarred Tinordi. Yannick Weber seems to be a spare part under coach Randy Cunneyworth, but having a guy who can play D or forward is helpful.
- No help needed in net: Carey Price is it.
I’m sure I’m missing a bunch of nuance, but at least if Mr. Gauthier calls me in the off-season I’ll have some conversation-starters ready.
In Soviet Russia, XBox plays you
Seriously, somebody stop us. This has been our past five days:
Wednesday: after a long day in the office we met for tasty deliciousness at Beerbistro. I introduced Nellie to Dieu du Ciel’s Dernière Volonté.
Thursday: I took some co-workers to Fieramosca. It was, as usual, delicious. At some point (probably after the fifth shot of Limoncello) I was a little worried about how I was going to feel the next morning. Especially since I had an 8AM meeting. Also, this was my second visit to Fieramosca in less than a week; the previous Saturday Nellie and I took our friends Kaylea and Matt there to celebrate their engagement.
Friday: Nellie had after-work drinks with co-workers, which meant I had a night to myself. “Solo Dan eve” involved shooting a lot of XBox Russians (<– not a euphemism, by the way, dirty!), eating pizza and blasting The Dandy Warhols.
Saturday: errands, errands and more errands, followed by a few hours in the office, but it took a decidedly more positive turn when Nellie and her fancy new haircut met me on the way to visit our friends CBJ+M. We picked up barbeque from The Stockyards, watched basketball and did some New Orleans trip strategizing.
Sunday: it was too gorgeous to do anything but get outside, so we walked to Gilead Cafe, checked out some new furniture in the Distillery District, ogled a Montauk sofa, did some clothes shopping (!) and had a few glasses of wine and a prosciutto pizza at Paese. We came home and opened our windows for the first time in months, got the smell of spring in the place, and eventually picked out two bottles of wine with which to finish the day: a 2008 Hidden Bench Felseck Vineyard Chardonnay from Niagara, and a 2008 Pirramimma Petit Verdot from McLaren Vale to pair with our Cumbrae’s steak. Both were fantastic.
So as fun as that all sounds, I would just like…I don’t know, a salad or some quinoa or something.
Now stop what you're doing and freak out
New Orleans and the Final Four, here we come!

Banksy on advertising
Things that were tolerable about the Oscars
- Emma Stone…not Emma Stone’s dress, mind you, but her bit on-stage and everything else about her ever
- What Nick Nolte was thinking
- Melissa McCarthy and Rose Byrne’s “Scorsese!” drinking game
- The speed with which “Angelina Jolieing” became a meme
- The marinated flank steak and various other delicacies prepared by our friends/hosts T-Bone & The Sof
That is all.
Eeleveneven
“Hell with it,” we thought last Thursday evening, “why not try some place new?”
So, the next day, we did.
E11even, not far from our place, is a newish restaurant that I keep forgetting about. It’s next to the Air Canada Centre, under the new Le Germain hotel and near Aria, but it never found its way on to my to-go list. But then I read Bruce Wallner’s review on Winefox, and it was still fresh in my head that evening when we booked in.
As soon as we walked in we could see there was a lot to like: the decor is great, the ceiling is a dark-stained wood which makes the whole room seem warm, and the bar at the front of the room looked pretty inviting. We also had a lot of fun playing with the iPad-based drinks list. I wanted one for home; my Google Spreadsheet wine inventory seems rather mundane now.
Our food was really terrific. Hot, tasty bread with herbed butter will never go uneaten at my table. Nellie had the crab cake starter, which we both found tasty…and I don’t even like crab cake. My prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella starter was great, but HUGE…I think it was meant for more than one person. We both ordered steaks from the grill: Nellie the petit filet and I the dry aged ribeye, both medium rare. I think they caught one corner of mine a little more than they meant to (it was medium to medium-well) but most of it was very tasty indeed. We did admit, though, that after having the Wagyu and Jacobs & Co a few weeks ago all other steaks seem to pale in comparison.
If we had one big complaint about the place it was the timing. We’d ordered a glass of wine (Carmenère for me, Prosecco for her) when we sat down, just while we settled in and perused the menu. Our starters (and accompaning glasses of wine) came out almost immediately after we ordered them, while we still had more than half our original drinks left. It’s hard to fault the kitchen for being speedy, but it made for a bit of glass-juggling. Speaking of wine, we’d asked the sommelier to suggest pairings for our starters (which he did: a Chablis for Nellie, a Pinot for me) and to pick a bottle of red to match our mains. He said he’d be back with options for the bottle of red. But we waited, and ate our starters, and waited again, and were still waiting when our steaks hit the table. No sign of our friend the sommelier. When our server returned he noticed the lack of red wine and flagged down the sommelier; who returned a few minutes later. The bottle he brought us — a 2009 Charles Melton Nine Popes GSM — wasn’t bad, but a) it hadn’t had any time to breathe and still tasted tight, and b) it was marginally over the upper limit of the price point I’d given him. It certainly seemed to us that he’d just forgotten about us and grabbed something quickly under pressure. So…not a huge deal, but when we’re spending over $100 on a bottle because we want it to match our food nicely, we were kind of expecting a little more care.
I mentioned our server, Shane — he really did save the evening. He was helpful, attentive, funny and apologetic when he noticed the sommelier’s oversight. Moreover, he quickly appeared with a decanter so our wine could open up faster. He gave us whisky suggestions at the end of the evening, which somehow led to discussions about Cape Breton and PEI and Alberta and how much better Calgary’s mayor is than ours.
So, not a great outing, but there was enough good there that it probably warrants another try. Maybe we’ll just sit at the bar. Or if we do have a full dinner, I’ll probably do something I’ve never done before, and ask to sit in a particular server’s section. You should too if you try it.
"You can lie, you can cheat, you can start a war, you can bankrupt the country, but you can't fuck the interns. They get you for that."
In our continuing efforts to see Oscar-nominated films, we watched two one* this past weekend:
- The Ides Of March (imdb | rotten tomatoes) was really, really good. It would have been pretty depressing to anyone who wasn’t already cynical about politics, too. And man, what a cast…Ryan Gosling, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Paul Giamatti, Evan Rachel Wood, George Clooney (barely in it, by the way; busy directing), Geoffrey Wright, Marisa Tomei…it’s worth it just to watch them work.
- I’d always wondered someone could turn a book like Moneyball (imdb | rotten tomatoes) into a movie, let alone a good movie, let alone an Oscar-nominated movie. Turns out you give it to screenwriters like Steven Zaillian and Aaron Sorkin. Despite all the hype I was kind of expecting something clunky and forced about baseball statistics, but it really worked. It worked because of the script, it worked because Brad Pitt and Jonah Hill (and others, especially — again — Philip Seymour Hoffman) sold it and it worked because they really highlighted the underdog angle. I’d also like to think that at least a tiny part of why it worked was the excellent score selection: strains of “The Mighty Rio Grande” by This Will Destroy You recur throughout the film to great effect. Filmmakers, take note: using Austin(ish)-based instrumental rock bands to score your sports-related films is never a bad idea.
* Yeah, so right after I wrote this I double-checked the Oscar best-picture nominee list and somehow The Ides Of March isn’t on it. War Horse (77%) is on it. The Help (76%) is on it. Even Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close (46%) is on it. What the balls, academy?
"Rommel, you magnificent bastard…I read your book!"
Last week I did a 36-hour trip to San Francisco, one of my very favourite cities. It was for work, alas, and I didn’t get to see or do all — or anything, really — that I would have liked, but it was still quite nice. Here’s how it went:
- 5+ hour flight to SFO, during which I watched Se7en (for the quillionth time) and several episodes of Portlandia (for the first time)
- 6+ hour vendor meeting, which actually went better than you would normally expect with a 6+ hour vendor meeting
- Dinner at L’Appart, a fantastic French restaurant up in San Anselmo. I had Shrimp Napoleon and cassoulet and crème brûlée, and shared in the flowing bottles of Bordeaux and Cotes du Rhone. It was like being back in Juilley.
- Heavy, zonked, lights-out sleep at the Intercontinental Mark Hopkins in Nob Hill
- Relaxing morning, including a walk around the city (and by ‘a walk’ I mean ‘climbing up and down a million hills’), a Starbucks stop and returning to my room to sit in the window, drink my coffee and read the New York Times
- 5+ hour flight to YYZ, during which I watched Patton (imdb | rotten tomatoes) for the first time. I’ve always put off watching it because it’s so long, but when you have five hours to kill a 182-minute movie comes in handy.
I would have loved to spend more time in the city, or take a side trip up to Napa, but it just wasn’t happening. Still, 24 hours in northern California in February is better than no hours at all.



