A busy weekend (click the images for captions): Friday night dinner at the bar at ACME, a newly reopened and very beautiful restaurant in Noho. In its previous life it was a Cajun joint (not unlike the original Acme, in New Orleans) but a new Danish chef has breathed new life into it — not to mention the whole farm-to-table genre. Go for the Hottie McHotterson waitstaff and chic decor, stay for the inspired take on new American food. (And go before they jack prices — they seem too low for what they’re putting out.)
I had high expectations for Richard III — and I was blown away (that’s Kevin Spacey and company taking a final bow). M. and I have been thinking about it all weekend. Spacey threw himself into the Shakespear’s juiciest character — sometimes literally — and Sam Mendes uncovered unexpected pointed of connection between scenes and characters. (There’s a good reason it’s more than 3 hours long.) The set, costumes, lighting, and sound design worked together to create a forbidding and tense time-out-of-time. Apparently BAM releases $30 tickets on Wednesdays — go if you can.
Richard III is M.’s favorite Shakespeare play, and it might be mine now, too. He’s shown me two movie versions, both highly recommended: Laurence Olivier’s and Ian McKellan’s Fascist-era take. He’s also urged me to watch Al Pacino’s “Looking for Richard.” Noted, my sweet.
On Saturday we took advantage of glorious global warming and biked to Carrol Gardens to have brunch at an old favorite, Clover Club, hang out with friends, and stock up at Stinky Bklyn.
I snapped the ceilings at both (yes, both) movie theaters I visited yesterday. We saw “The Artist” at BAM and “My Week With Marilyn” at Cinema Village East. The first made me want a Jack Russell, the second, lash extensions. (How great were those extensions?? Even when she was zonked out on pills, they made her look as pretty as Bambi.) In all seriousness, I absolutely adored “The Artist.” What an extraordinary piece of film-making. And Michelle Williams really did nail Monroe. Hats off.
And finally, I wore my new scarf pretty much non-stop. Paired on Friday with a champagne dress and black belt that my sister got for me in Spain and on Saturday with my perfect parka and Clare Vivier messenger bag.
To paraphrase the president, God bless America, and God bless weekends!
Sunday began as Sundays should: with a bloody at Clover Club. One of my all-time favorite bloodies, the Barman’s, is no longer on the menu, but that doesn’t mean they won’t oblige a weary traveler….
The ladies love Ramos.
Twice makes it a tradition: we went to Clover Club for brunch on his birthday last year, and went again yesterday. I had the Barman’s Bloody, house-cured (beet-cured!) smoked salmon on potato cakes, and a Sloe & Lo for good measure. Love that place.
Shout-outs to a couple of my fave cocktail-bar-cum-brunch-spots in today’s Times: Mayahuel (pictured) and Clover Club.
And if you like Bloody Marys…
Scramble over to Clover Club on Smith St. for the Barmen’s Bloody Mary, made with rye whiskey, Fernet-Branca, fresh-pressed tomato juice, and fresh basil. Oh my it is good. Brunch is fantastic, too.
Safety first!
How did I get so lucky to find a guy who a.) wears traffic-cone-orange coats and b.) is such a good sport?
A few thoughts before bed…
- Clover Club brunch is excellent. Get the beet-cured smoked salmon on potato pancakes with poppy seed creme fraiche and the “Barman’s Blood Mary,” with a special kind of whiskey and fresh basil. They do all their jucing in-house so the drinks are really fantastic.
- My first trip to the world famous Russ & Daughters was exciting. Then M. sent me home with what I thought was his smoked fish, not entirely sure why. File under: more of my dumb luck.
- This recipe for Steaks with Lobster Béarnaise Sauce is worth the effort. On Friday, I made it for M.’s birthday dinner (just the two of us), but I asked him to do the sauce because, as he put it, he likes “the fiddly bits of cooking” and I emphatically do not.
- M. finds it next to impossible to open his eyes in photos. He’s got a framed photo in his living room of him and three friends in which his eyes are closed. This struck me as odd until I realized he’s closing his eyes in 60-70% of shots. (He has his eyes open in the photo above, but just barely. And that was one of 3 or 4 tries.)
The Great American Cooking Project