Francey That!

The girls were gone, so my buddy George and I had a man-date to see David Francey. First I went to his place with some nice things to drink. He made supper and we watched TV. (Flight of the Conchords - hilarious).

Then we walked down to the concert at Alderney landing together. But we did not hold hands.

OK, enough with the fluff. The concert was excellent. Francey played many of this old faves, and served up several of the excellent songs from his new album. The show, at the theatre style Alderney Gate was promoted by the Keltic Corner Pub, across the street on Alderney Drive (and one of the best pubs in Nova Scotia right now - Propeller Porter on tap). The say, or at least co-owner Geoff MacLatchey said, that they plan on doing more larger venue shows when the performer warrants it. Good on them. Maybe some day someone will actually move to downtown Dartmouth! OK, sorry George, someone important.... I mean someone of ... OK, more people, then.

Francey's in-between-songs patter was great, as usual, and made the songs more personal and meaningful. His fascination with Great Lakes lakers was interesting, and how he managed to achieve a "dream" of touring on one was fun to hear. Then hearing the songs he got from the trip became a workshop in song writing.

Afterwards, we ventured over to the Keltic Corner pub, and found it rocking away to some Irish Band, full of an all ages crowd just getting in on! A few people from the show did come over, and Francey sold some CD's (one to me, in fact) and signed various parts of people's bodies etc.

David Francey remains one of the most transparently likable singer/songwriters in folk music. He really enjoys what he is doing, and hearing how a crowd receives his work. If you don't know his music, and you love songs that seem to have fallen together in perfect rhythm while still evoking real emotion, give him a listen.

Here is my favourite Francey line, about that first crush in high school:

When you hear a sound like broken glass
That's my heart every time that girl walks past
When you hear a sound like the rush of wind
It's just me catching my breath again.

Evens not Odd

Clank said go. L said sure. I end up at the North Street Church to watch a dry concert show with an ex hardcore punk rocker from the states and his current gal pal play a two person acoustic punk show.

Ian MacKaye, former lead singer of Minor Threat now performs as one half of The Evens. This is the guy who coined the phrase "straight edge" in punk lingo. That means pure anarchy - no booze, no drugs, almost a Wiccan adherence to the "do no harm" thing, but with maybe some property violence permissible.

From that Wiki thing...

Straight edge (also known as sXe, and xXx) refers to a lifestyle (deemed both counter culture and subculture) closely associated with hardcore punk music. There is considerable debate over what constitutes the practice of the straight edge lifestyle. The most widely associated perception involves practicing at least some degree of abstinence from alcohol, tobacco, and other drugs. Some views may also include abstinence from caffeine, following a vegetarian or vegan diet, and abstinence from various levels and forms of sexual activity.

The show was pretty good.

I could have used something to drink, though.

Fred-Head Not Dead

Fred Eaglesmith may be the most honest guy in music, or the best actor. I'm not sure which. What I am sure about is that he has the ability to write songs that stay with you. Songs that no one else could ever right, but still are able to convey a feeling we all have had, or wish we could have.

He writes sad songs about his good dog, knowing that one day he'll have to put him down (Bill Morrissey has handled the day it happens, too well for most people's tear ducts). He writes uplifting songs about white trash just getting on with life, romantic songs about cars and trains, poignant, almost poetic songs about old gas stations and girl friends, as if they were one and the same. And he performs them in a gritty, tight, manner with what is sometimes an incredibly eclectic group of musicians, normally anchored in their musicianship by Willie P. Bennett, who can play anything with strings.

Fred seems to enjoy making a point with his choices of venue as well. He is more at home in a fire station hall than Carnegie Hall, and his recent choice of the Parkside Pub, in Highfield Park, our city's "new tough place to live" is emblematic of that approach. He is loved there. And he loves it back.

I've seen Fred play 4 times previous to this gig, but had not seen him in a while. L and I got there fairly early, and I managed to scrounge a seat for two along the wall. The service was not just good, it was incredible. Our server was friendly, efficient, fun, prompt, polite, and gorgeous. We ate the specialty, Chicken wings and beer.

Fred started on time, and they stopped serving food so as not to interrupt the show, but I think it was because the staff just wanted to watch too.

The first news was that Willie P. had had a heart attack on stage two weeks prior. It happened near the start of the show, Fred said, but he played through it and then went to the hospital. Not sure how true this was, because Fred was in Fred mode. He has become a show since I saw him last, with more than simply patter between songs. His stage talk runs somewhere between a southern preacher railing against all the evil in the world, to a frustrated honky who hates hummus and everything it stands (or slumps) for.

The show was full throttle for 90 minutes. He played almost all the faves, seemingly not risking new tunes without Willie P. up there with him. With his merch-sales gal drummer keeping time, and backed up solidly on bass and guitar, the music rocked, swayed, sobbed, and rolled.

After the third, and "as announced" final encore, he sat off to the side, signing merchandise and swapping stories with about 75 lined up fans. I wanted one of the "I Shot Your Dog" T-shirts, but they were sold out. What a perfect thing to wear out for a stroll on the Common!

My only complaint was that my favourite song of his, Lucille, was not on the program.

So I played it at home, before I went to sleep to dream about perfect chicken wings, drag racin'on the back roads, and snow plow drivers out in the middle of the plain hoping they are still on the blacktop.

Happy Anniversay, Happy Anniversary, Happy Anniversay, Happy Anniversary, Happy Anniversay, Happy Anniversary, Happy Anniversay, Happy Anniversary

Some time long ago and far way L and I started living together. It was, like, almost by default. Anyway, apparently that was "20 years ago today" (Sgt Pepper) on June 3.
But June 3 was full of all kinds of other stuff, so we deferred the eating part til this weekend.

Morning was mixed, eggs a la Jeff with some toast cheese etc.

Brunch was at Saege, served by the gorgeous Karin, brunch consisted of Eggs Benedict and Ham, with ROESTI POTATOES (I like ROESTI POTATOES so I shout them all the time.)

ROESTI POTATOES! ROESTI POTATOES! See?

L also had ROESTI POTATOES! with her eggs and sausages, but she was much quiter than me about it.

I had a Mimosa (knowing it is made correct there - see earlier post) made me much more comfortable with the drink, really.

The best thing was the strawberries in the water pitcher, especially when one fell into my glass and I got to eat it.

A stroll through the Public Gardens, and then back home.

Later that day, it was dinner out at Fiasco. This place gets rave reviews on Chowhound, from people who seem to know what they are eating, and who eat elsewhere and are not related to some of the restaurant owners (unlike some "critics" in the Province). There seems to be some buzz about "the sauces", which I now think was created by an old Stephen Maher review (he of the "good, very good" reviews). Yes the sauces were good, yes they were very good, maybe even great. Sure, yes, great sauces.

Anyway, back to the dinner. We wanted to take the menu's advice and have an appetizer sampler. It said three apps made for two plates. Cool - that'll be the two pastas and a spinach salad! Um, no, the menu may say or imply, that we should be able to do that, but no, it is chef's choice. In determining the choice of food, for me - THAT MEANS HE CAN POISON YOU IF HE IS IN A SHITTY MOOD!! How many happy chefs do you know? They are all serious until they get drunk, then they throw knives and assorted pastries at anything that moves! They may laugh then, but it is only at the way you bleed. At best, it means they use this as a way to discard the apps no one else likes.

Anyway, I politely accepted this denial of my request to eat what I wanted and morphed it into a Spinach salad (warm with smoked bacon, balsamic and garlic) and the Tortellini with a browned butter, cream and prosciutto sauce (note - SAUCE!). I thought I said we'd do it as a split, but they came plated separately. (also cost $5 more than the special we thought the menu offered). The pasta sauce rocked. The salad? Um, not really.

The wine list was not bad. They are close to the POW but I note that some Private store selections have snuck in. I had the Flagstone Sauvignon Blanc (the server called it something else) and L had her usual H2O. I asked for water, which I never did see until I lay on the carpet choking for something... OK, no, but it went forgotten and I had to ask again. (did I mention we were the only customers in the place?)

The wines open by the glass were not on any list, and seemed to be improvised (which I think is cool). There were three whites and three reds open. The red I chose for my second course of Beef Medallion(s) was the Don David Malbec. Not on the list, but open for service by the glass. It was too alcoholic to provide a fair match to the food, maybe palatable with raw meat and no sauce, or lysol in the ditch behind the church on Brunswick Street - but I chose it, so it was clearly my fault. I ordered the beef rare. I said "rare" I am sure. I got meat that was decidedly medium. Does anyone know what "rare" means in this city? Even at Seven with their wonderful PEI filet and wood grill, I asked for rare and got medium rare. At janes I asked for rare and got medium. If I ask for "blue" I expect they'll just paint my frickken nose. I am considering bringing in a good cut of steak and just eating it at my table uncooked. Maybe then someone will get the message. Hopefully the BYO rules will have passed and I'll be able to afford a proper wine to drink with it too!

L had a seafood medley type of thing. Scallops, halibut, mussels, clams, and even a "hidden shrimp". This pleased her - they hid the singleton shrimp, so her disappointment at there being no shrimp or lobster was temporarily forgotten by the pleasant suprise of finding the solo shrimp under some cheaper white fish (Halibut?) meat. Accident, or design? Didn't fool me.

She says it was great, but I ask, was it just the company, really?

To our server's shock, we decline dessert, as patrons are starting to arrive, and it looks to be a real puke fest at a big table - they have already covered the seats with sheets in anticipation of their needing to be preserved (Bill Spurr said that's why they do that, and he should know, he writes a food column for a "major newspaper"!). I guess the sheets can be washed later, and it's hard to get that puke smell out of the furniture.

In truth the meal was great. Seriously. I'd recommend the place to anyone in a heartbeat. My only quibble was the price - maybe I am spoiled by janes on the common, but the bill was $114 before grat. Two glasses of wine, a salad and pasta app, and two main courses, one a daily special. That is $60 at janes. Was it better? Hmm. Some of it was, marginally - the sauce on the pasta, and the steak/medallion(s) (there was only one medallion but the menu has an "s" on it, though it was good, and enough). The spinach salad at janes is better, the wine by the glass is as good, and cheaper, and the seafood can be as good or better there, depending on the special of the day. The cut of meat at Fiasco was prime, and arguably better, but it was almost $30, so it had better be good. Maybe it can even come rare sometimes.

So go, eat there, eat things with sauces, and chill out - the wine list was very good, and the markups very fair.

A stroll through the Public Gardens, and then back home.

Later, that evening we went to janes for dessert, having allowed time for our meal to digest a bit. With my cousin, right off the Mira Gut to Marion Bridge ferry. The beauty of the desert menu shone through. My coconut cream shortbread crust mini-pie was yummy without being too sweet, L's upside down rhubarb cake was worth the wait, and my cousin made his carrot cake disappear in no time.

Yep, a great day of eating.

BURP

Lightfoot Treads Lightly on the Metro Centre

Let's get this clear from the start, I bought the tickets to this concert because I wanted to see Gordon Lightfoot before he died. Years of listening to him, yet never seeing him required this. I was wondering why that was until he mentioned that he hadn't been east in 17 years or so. That might be it.

There was no opening act, and Gordon and his old but talented band started up the show with Daylight Katy and kept going from there. He played a lot of the old faves, and in about a half hour, you started becoming almost in awe at the size of his body of work. He has been responsible for the creation of so many gems, classics, favourite songs, and memory evoking tunes and lyrics.

I still recall always having Carefree Highway in my car cassette player for long drives, and that stretch of the 104 where Barney's River cuts through the mountain pass outside of Antigonish always come to mind when I hear that tune.

The show had about a half hour intermission. Gordon needed the break. His voice is no longer that of a young man, and tended to the wispy character of someone who is tired, but still has something of value to say.

That said, the sound system was sorely not up to the task of moving the air in the Metro Centre. This was a show that would have been totally awesome in the Cohn, but was almost lost in the atmosphere in the hockey arena. That was alright for us, as I had bought seats as close as were available. But there were those in the end of the rink who were yelling "turn it up!" all night.

Too bad, really. Two or three nights at the Cohn would have been far better than this one in this location.

In the end, Gord gave gold, and that was why we came.

Down in the caves of Stönehäven

Dinner before the Gordon Lightfoot concert, and I was thinking about trying a new place to eat. We never did get to Syn before it went out of business, so I figured maybe we'd get to this place just in case.

The advertising had me more than ready to not like the place. I mean, it has two umlauts in the name alone (as was pointed out to me by teslagirl)! Like some aged Spinal Tap type rock band from the 70's.

The evening we went, we almost did not get a table for two, it was that booked. We sat in the outer room, close to the bar, which is fine, though not as cosy as the inner little caves that La Cave made famous.

How often does a new place open, with a new name, claiming to represent the culinary heritage of two former semi famous places to eat in town? Stönehäven, located in the former La Cave, then The Cavern, then Syn location, claims to be the descendant of both Pepe's and La Cave. I am not sure how many people remember Pepe's, but it was a good spot to eat back in the late eighties, and earlier. I think Your Father's Moustache is there now.

We were served by very friendly people. No impatience, and relatively prompt, except for the dessert. I think there is some sort of a bottleneck between the kitchen and the floor that can hold up a simple order (a piece of cheesecake) behind a big table's main courses.

The food was good. Not fine dining inventive original, but hearty, as advertised, and tasty. I had Devilled Chicken which was steak au poivre with chicken breast instead of steak. I liked it - they did not scrimp on the pepper. L had some chowder, and a pasta dish, both to her liking.

The wine list was pathetic, and this is one serious weakness of the place. I ended up with only one real choice for white wine by the glass, and it was an Australian Chard from a big industrial producer.

The cheescakes we had for dessert were both excellent, although they did take longer to arrive than anything else we ordered.

Others may find this place not to their liking, but on this night, to our experience, it was fine. And the service was very good.

Of course, it is not for the claustrophobic.