Mussels: The District

In the mood for something new last Friday, the wife and I ventured out to the District on Danforth Street just west of the Old Port. Walking in my spider sense immediately started tingling, trying to warn me I had just entered a douchy bar. The signs were everywhere; cold (some would say sleek) color scheme, empty walls, 80% of the staff had unnecessary tattoos and a couple of ridiculously dressed (ahem) ladies bellied up to the bar. We took our place at the high tops next to the (ahem) ladies and hoped for the best while preparing for the worst. The menu seemed to be typical bar fare with a heavier emphasis on seafood. I must say upfront that although I wasn't impressed by my surroundings, once I started shoving food down my throat the mood quickly lightened.

Starter - Maine Crab Meat Fritters $9.00 - There were 5 of these things when the plate was dropped off but 2 were gone before I could get my phone out my pocket. They were a little light on the crab, but they were still fried crispy on the outside and gooey on the inside, i.e. fucking delicious. Probably not worth $1.80 a fritter and I wouldn't get them again but a good start none-the-less. That red stuff is ketchup, the white is tartar sauce, neither was notable or necessary.

Wife's Meal - Bacon Cheeseburger with Fries $12.00 - Yeah, sure it's a just a burger and fries. But damnit there is something to be said for ordering meat medium rare and getting it medium fucking rare. This thing was large, bloody, and delicious just the way a burger should be. Most of the fries ended up in my stomach which was ideal as they were hand cut with great texture and just the right amount of salt.

My Meal - Roasted and Fried Chicken with Grits, Greens and Gravy $17.00 - Holy shit. This was amazing. The plate had two cuts of chicken, one fried, one roasted, delicately placed atop a bed of spicy grits, gravy and collard greens. The fried chicken cutlet was by far the worst component. It seemed to shrink a little inside the buttermilk shell and was there mostly as a vehicle for delivering more of the grits and gravy to my mouth. The roasted thigh however was transcendent, oh man, the skin was salty and delightfully crispy, the white meat was thick but still incredibly juicy. Words do not do justice to just how delicious that piece of meat was. If you go to the District it is an absolute must order. The grits and gravy were smooth and surprisingly spicy but not over powering. The collard greens were handled well and added some nice subtle bitterness to the dish. But holy crap the roasted chicken, it's all about the chicken.

Including a drink for the wife our tab came to just over $50 plus tip. All in all I think I would go back to the District, however I would just end up ordering the same damn thing. It would probably be better if they offered take out. But then I fear I would go all the time and end up eating that chicken with my hands while crouching over the to-go container in some dark, wet alley, with a crazed look in my eyes... It's probably for the best that I just never go back there.

Music: Laura Stevenson and the Cans - Sit Resist

Ever since I heard "Landslide Song/The Dig" on 2008's A Record I have been eagerly, breathlessly, slobberingly (?) awaiting a proper album from Laura Stevenson. In the interim 2.5 years she has teased me with a handful of delightfully tight, catchy songs spread across various E.P.s, splits and demoes. But nothing could have prepared me the sonic meal my eardrums were treated to when I finally had a chance to spin Sit Resist. Lacking any real recording quality A Record was nice but more of a demo than anything. LSatC's sophomore effort however is the shit . . . the fucking shit. The songs range from pop to ska to bluegrass all the while maintaining a cohesion united by Laura's bright voice and dark stories.

If this album was on a major label and subject to radio play, I suppose the first single would be "Master of Art." A song which showcases LSatC's ability to start hauntingly slow and build to a powerful crescendo that will leave you unconsciously tapping your feet and banging your head like Wayne and Garth.

And while that song is undoubtedly great I prefer the darker "The Heathly One" where LSatCs hide a bleak tale of a family's impending doom beneath a bright, poppy beat. On it Laura repeatedly croons:

-You will live long

You will bury them all in the ground

And your body will grow,

You will bury them all . . . It hurts to be the healthy one -

That chilling refrain is indicative of what truly separates and elevates Sit Resist into greatness; a lyrical darkness that adds substance to an aggressive and often fun musical accompaniment. Sit Resist is extremely re-listenable and you'll continue to mine previously undiscovered nuggets on the 10th - 20th - 30th listen. I got the MP3's when I pre-ordered the vinyl 3 weeks ago and ever since it has maintained a Million Dollar Man like choke hold on my iPod, laptop and now with the arrival of the full package, my turntable.

The best thing I can say about Sit Resist is that Laura resisted the urge to make something sweet, something easy. Despite her enchanting voice, this isn't baby-making music, there is nothing happy or nice in Laura's world. The songwriting acts as sandpaper to the music's more refined edges, roughing it up and taking the entire album to a dark place, where loneliness is the rule and there is no escape. I've listened to this album so obsessively for the past 3 weeks that my wife has at times found herself questioning my commitment to our marriage.

15 minutes ago:

Wife - "What're you writing about?"

Me - "Laura Stevenson"

Wife - "Oh great. Should I be worried."

Me - "Why is she touring Portland?"

But fear not Wifey, Laura isn't the type of woman you would want to settle down with. She clearly writes from a lonely place where fucked up demons and gargoyles lurk in the shadows, a place where selfishly, I hope she stays.

10/10

Updated world rankings for 2011:

1) Sit Resist

2) Au Diable Les Bananes

3) The Anarchy and the Ecstasy

Mussels: Po'Boys and Pickles

Let me preface this post by saying I've been to Po'Boys and Pickles a lot and as a result this is probably going to be less of a review and more of an unabashed love letter. I love this restaurant like a mother bear loves her cubs and am fiercely protective of it in the same way. Two weeks ago I was discussing my Friday night plans with a friend we'll call Roy. I mentioned that I planned on plopping my ass down at Po'Boys for an hour or so and scarfing down some delicious grub. His response was something along of the lines of "Oh that place on Forest Ave? Yeah it's OK, kind of expensive..." When I originally broached the subject I was expecting Roy to fall all over himself expressing his adoration for their blackened fish sandwich or their gravy fries or their milkshakes. In my vision we would triumphantly agree, hold hands and skip down the street together singing the praises of our culinary masters for all to hear. Instead his callous dismissal of something I hold so dear has been festering in my gut for half a month, if I had had a match and some gasoline I would have set him alight as penance for his shameful palate and thrifty ways. Then I would have warmed my hands on this burning corpse and invited all to gather round, witness the spectacle and delight in my tale of the time I ate a large dirty bird po'boy, a cup of red beans and rice and a side order of fried pickles in one sitting. This post is off to a great start, isn't it? On to the food!

Starter - Sweet Potato Fries - $3.00

A classic. I consider myself something of a sweet potato fry aficionado and I am bound to order them in lieu of their unsweetened bretheren at any restaurant that offers. Although probably not the best sweet potato fry I have ever had, Po'Boy's are nice and crispy and salty, not overly dense or starchy. Ketchup and New Orleans style hot sauce provided on every table add a little interest.

Amuse Bouche - Biscuits - $.65 or something ridiculous

Those in the know at Po'Boys understand that no order is complete with out a biscuit. They come out hot, buttery, flakey and delicious. And for a scant $.65 the biscuits are a truly essential addition to any meal at P'BaP. I mean that's only like 450 calories/cent, economy be damned we're eating large tonight! Did I mention how buttery they are? I did? Good, they're very buttery.

Main Course #1 - Debris Salad - $7.50

This is a favorite of the little lady, because as the term indicates she's daintier than I and enjoys things like salads. But this isn't just any salad; this a a pile of lettuce, cucumber and carrots struggling valiantly to maintain some of their vegetable dignity under the meaty weight of the almighty debris. The aptly named debris is a mix of meat scraps and juices that are softly stewed together until they become one delicious symphony of dead animal flavor. To call this dish a salad would be to give vegetarians all over the world the heart attack they so rightly deserve. This is no salad, this is a balanced meal, complete with all of the important food groups: meat soaked vegetables, meat soaked meat and ranch dressing. Satisfying indeed.

Main Course #2 - Fried Shrimp Po'Boy - Large: $11.00, Small: $6.50

Quite probably the nicest thing you could do to a shrimp would be to catch it in a large net with its entire family, slice their heads off as they suffocate, toss them in some batter and allow the magicians at P'BaP to lightly fry and serve them simply between 2 halves of soft, crusty french bread with a dab of mayo, some tomato slices and shredded lettuce. This sandwich sounds easy, it sounds like something you've had before at a million different joints. But you probably haven't had it done quite as well as the fellows at P'BaP are serving it up. Everything is perfectly proportional; the batter isn't overwhelmingly thick but it provides a great crunch and doesn't slough off the critters after a bite. Also as is unfortunately rare with fried food, the kitchen at P'BaP always takes the time to properly season everything before sending it out. The servings are huge and they overload the sandwiches with shrimp, so when you pick up the bread don't feel bad about all the crustaceans jumping back onto the plate, they'll still be plenty left between the bread and picking off the survivors once the sandwich is gone completes the experience.

Despite Roy's criticism in regards to the price we came in a little over $30 including a pop for me and a glass of wine for the wife, scientifically proving that Roy is an ass. One final note, remember to bring a few bucks cash for the jar as they're nice enough to bring the food to your table and their credit card machine doesn't let you write in a tip.

Mussels: Fleur De Lys San Francisco

Ahh San Francisco, so hilly, so rainy, so full of good food, but seriously so fucking hilly. In between struggling up inclines that would give most black diamonds an inferiority complex and dodging legions of super aggressive panhandlers, the wife and I had a chance to dine at Hubert Keller's Fleur De Lys. 4 courses, $80+/person, here we go.

Amuse Bouche: A very earthy quinoa and cold gazpacho with a savory whipped cream topping.

Nothing spectacular here, but an OK start to the meal. I could have done without the heavy cream on top of the gazpacho, but the gazpacho itself was very smooth and flavorful. Certainly nothing I haven't had before but it started the meal off nicely.

Course #1: Vegetable Ragout w/ egg, truffles and port wine sauce.

Out of the 8 different appetizer options I picked this off the menu to start because as Anthony Bourdain would say "I'm a total egg slut." It may be tough to tell in the picture but that's a perfectly poached egg nestled into the debris of legumes. I split the sum bitch open and let the runny yolk wrestle the nicely cooked vegetables into submission. Overall this dish left me wanting more, more egg, more salt, more egg. Although the veggies were cooked expertly I felt this dish fell a little flat, especially once the delicious yellowy goodness of the yolk had been sopped up. A few pinches of sea salt were provided separately on a butter dish but at $80/meal I felt I shouldn't have to re-season my food.

Course #2: Wild Jumbo Prawn w/ Brioche Crust.

Those big wads of deliciousness sitting ever so innocently next to that big ol' shrimp is pork mother-fucking belly. There are basically 4 ingredients in this dish, butter, shrimp, beans, and pork belly. You could add fatty bacon (and butter!) to a shoe and I would shovel it down the gullet, smile and beg for seconds. The only thing wrong with this dish is that it wasn't part of some wonderful "all you can eat buffet in heaven." Whomever said "you should always leave them wanting more" is an asshole, I needed about 50 of these.

Course #3: Roasted Venison Chop with chorizo, bok choy in a red wine reduction.

Hailing from Maine, I felt it was my obligation to pass on the more glamourous lamb, duck and filet mignon options in favor of a little Bambi for my meat course. Although the chorizo tried valiantly to elevate this dish into something special, the cut of meat itself suffered from a lack of basic salt and pepper. The chop was cooked appropriately, a nice medium rare, but I find that venison is such a lean meat that it needs to be seasoned more vigorously to make up for the lack of fat(flavor.) This course was OK but not exactly what I was expecting from a restaurant of this stature.

Dessert Course: Dark Chocolate Espresso Mousse.

After a disappointing meat course I was completely blown away by finish of the meal. 3 different components, the mousse, a truffle with fried coconut on the outside and chocolate meringue provided a deliciously sweet end to what I felt was ultimately a disappointing experience. The truffle melted in my mouth and the mousse was balanced nicely by the white chocolate pieces that adorned the top.

Beyond the food I was also disappointed in the atmosphere created at Fleur de Lys. I found it almost oppressively dark and heavy with the walls and ceiling all covered with heavy drapery. One large chandelier in the middle of the small and full dining room provided the majority of the light. Although I was left non-plussed by the food the wife and I both found the service to be attentive, knowledgeable and friendly. We encountered no snobbish curtness that one could imagine at a joint this classy and no one seemed to mind the idiot(me,) sitting in the back taking pictures of his food on his iphone. Instead we were impressed by the relaxed tone and quick drink/bread refills from the entire staff. On a different night with some different menu choices I could imagine the experience living up to the expensive price tag and staggering reputation of it's head chef. But overall my experience left me hungrier and poorer than I really had a right to be. I don't suffer delicate food well and the calories consumed Fleur De Lys were quickly burned off with the 2 blocks of the vertical climb back to my hotel room.

Musings: Triathlons or why you need to find a real sport before I run you over with my car

As the weather warms middle aged, pudgy white men and women in affluent suburbs across America are emerging from their winter slumber. Soon they will be taking to our roads and our beaches with an entirely misplaced notion of their own importance and athletic prowess. Monday morning office conversations everywhere will be dominated by Bob in accounting who wants you to know that he set a personal best in his 10K bike ride this weekend and is really stoked about the fun run he and the neighbors have planned for next Sunday. No one gives a shit Bob, shut up. Seriously. Shut up. Few practices publicly stamp one as an asshole surer than self identification as a tri-athlete. Are baseball games played in public parks? Are basketball games played in mall parking lots? No, of course not, that would be annoying and inconvenient to the public at large. Why then do we tolerate hundreds of out of shape white collar drones trudging and panting along our thoroughfares from Spring to Fall? We shouldn't. We won't. We can't. To this end I've put together a list of proactive steps you can take to rid your town of these menaces.

1) Go to your most local mall and buy every piece of spandex available at you the sporting goods store. God, forbid one of these hippopotami run in a sensible pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Nope, they need to show off the floppy physiques that only a winter full of lethargy and red wine could sculpt.

2) Install a high powered air horn in your car or truck. Then next time you come across a pod of porpoises huffing along in the middle of the street while blatantly ignoring a side walk, you can inch up behind them, lay on the horn and push their cheese clogged hearts into immediate coronary failure.

3) If you're unlucky enough to find that this menace will soon be advancing upon your own neighborhood, set out of the night before the "race" and line the street and fence in front of your house with flyers for your local food co-op/farmer's market. They'll be distracted like a bird by a shiny object. Bring out some white wine and they'll quickly become demotivated and disperse.

This summer when you're driving to the beach and your ride is delayed by 500 panting sloths in visors with grease penned numbers running down their doughy arms you don't have to sit back and take it. Unite and fight America! We are in control of our own destinies and it's time we took our streets back.

Music: Lisabi - Au Diable Les Bananes

Things that are free are fucking awesome. Things that are free and loud are fucking awesomer. Au Diable Les Bananes is definitely awesomer (click on the link for the band's free download.) Lisabi is Brazil's answer to circa "Album Minus Band" Bomb the Music Industry. Their new album grabs you by the balls and swings you about its head like a knight brandishing a mace. "But Jesse," you say, "I am a female and that analogy confuses me, is there another way to describe how much you like this piece of music?" No there isn't, only balls. Seriously stop reading this nonsense and go download that shit! You don't even have to deal with any messy Portuguese!

Before Lisabi I only knew 3 things about Brazil:

- They're quite skilled at soccer.

- If you're an American tourist you may get kidnapped and held for ransom.

- Their barbecues are ridiculous.

But after listening to "Au Diable Les Bananes" the list has grown to four bullet points! :

- The country contains at least one band that doesn't suck.

My knowledge has expanded by 25%! Rejoice! Exclamation points!!!!

8.9/10

Musings: An ode to the ice bump at the end of my driveway

Tyrant of the driveway, constant reminder of my inadequate shovel

You laughed at salt, guffawed at my labor and grew more obese with each storm

Now as Winter turns to Spring; the days longer and the weather warm

It is your slow death at which I marvel

Where once you stood tall and fat

Now, all find you are inadequate

Die, Die, Die.