Le Frenchwoman

Posted on May 16, 2013 by Steph

According to extensive Google searches, French women have an approach to life that is as trés chic as the clothes on their backs. For the sake of transparency, my burgeoning interest in the elusive Frenchwoman is based upon Jana’s new roommate Anissa, a French master’s student who told me I would fit in with the French. She was probably being nice by way of American custom (we are too overtly nice to each other), but I still had to wonder: what does that even mean? Let’s examine Anissa’s aperçu of Americans to understand the French (to be read in a pretty French accent):

Americanwoman
Lots of makeup, my God it’s like globs on the face; fake everything – fake nails, fake hair; the boobs, everything — it’s too much skin. Very hot, but not necessarily pretty. And when you greet each other it’s fake, “Ooh ooh ooh, so good to see you!”

Frenchwoman
We don’t like a lot of makeup. We like clothes. We like feminine and pretty. We don’t ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ when we greet each other – just a quick hello will do if I don’t know you.

Of course this was a surface level conversation as this was during the drive to meet (very American) friends in downtown SD, but I believe Anissa was trying to convey a sense of effortlessness that Americans lack. I tend to agree, because by the third embrace accompanied by a shriek of ecstasy after running into an old friend, I’m exhausted.

-S

Twentysomethings hail Gatsby as new role model

Posted on May 15, 2013 by Steph

SAN DIEGO – After 2 hours and 20 minutes of Baz Luhrmann’s cinematic rendition of The Great Gatsby, masses of Twentysomethings asserted life changing revelations guaranteed to improve quality of life.

Young women across the country resolved to find a man like Tom Buchanan, lamenting their dismay in his philandering and lusty tendencies but unanimously agreed that pursuit of such disappointing men is worth the money and wardrobe, longing for a pre-prenuptial agreement era. Kristen Stovitz, a 28 year old part time receptionist, commends Daisy for her for parenting skills, “Daisy gets us fools. If my baby girl’s man cheats on her with a red headed skank, she can just cheat on him back and still shop on Rodeo Drive. YOLO, you know?”

Young men of all ages also expressed interest in building a life out of Gatsby’s core ideals, “The movie was like, way better than the book. It’s like saying that partying and hanging out of the sunroof of your mom and dad’s car is okay. It spoke to me,” said 29 year old Sam Wilker, perpetual student and intern for Jabber’s Film Studio. When asked about his 30th birthday next year, he laughed, “I ain’t about that life. I’ll think about my balding demise when I turn 30, like Nick did. I’m going out in style. Gatsby wore a pink suit like a boss. That fool’s on one.” Men’s Warehouse has since seen a 400% demand spike in suit shades of magenta, baby pink, salmon, and mauve, nine out of ten suits placed on layaway and purchased with low limit credit cards. Mexico, Canada, Japan, France and China also saw an increase in demand for banana yellow cars and cigarettes, presumably the influence of the elusive American dream.

Lifelike at MCASD

Posted on May 13, 2013 by Steph

La Jolla, CA

Untilted, Maurizio Cattelan

Perception is reality in the eye of the perceiver.

There’s been a buzz and excitement for Lifelike. How could it go unnoticed if not for the giant milk carton looming over what once were the Robert Irwin windows? I wish they hadn’t removed them. After a rather harrowing (and quite frankly painful) week, MCASD in La Jolla promised pretty things to stare at, artistic complexities for me to either marvel or loathe, and free entertainment. Anything but the bizarre and surreal string of events that seem to weave in an out of my reality. For someone who needed a slice of something real, this exhibit was anything but.

Hefty 2-Ply, Jud Nelson

“Don’t overlook the trash bag.” – MCASD front desk

I did not overlook the trash bag that appeared to be trash bag but felt rather tricked, fooled for mistaking this marble lump to be something so familiar and ordinary. In fact, the pieces of Lifelike were so deceivingly real that what was surely cardboard was not cardboard at all, but metal, lead and paint, and trust me when I say you don’t want to eat those sunflower seeds. And then I was angry. Why reconstruct and recreate that which already exists? Why disturb simplicity with complexity? Why me?

Kui Hua Zi (Sunflower Seeds), Ai Weiwei

still.life., Ugo Rondinone

Subway Metro, Leandro Erlich

Then there was the film of passengers in a subway behind a real dividing door. For a brief moment, I was riding the 6 train again with Christian and Dedrick, literally lost in the depths of Manhattan and absolutely loving it. But an uncomfortable shift in my gut reminded me that this is San Diego, and this eerily lifelike piece was foreign to my beach town reality, as was the painter’s hall that would never see painters. And I almost loathed the South African who looked so real, I wondered how I could have distinguished life from silicone. If not for the unsettling and strange distortion of his side profile, what indicator do I have for what’s real? The truth?

(Old) No One-in Particular #6, Series 2, Evan Penny

I feel woozy looking at this.

Then there were other realities that force recognition, such as scenes from urban streets that might have been overlooked – should I have overlooked them? Should I have paid more attention? The 3:44 minute film documenting rotting fruit ignored aversions to the ugly truth. Nobody wants to acknowledge the deterioration of something they believe to be good, wholesome, pure.

Still Life, Sam Taylor-Wood

Or maybe it’s just you who needs to look beyond the grandeur and observe the details. The man painting the White House on a $20 bill was there all along, but I just didn’t notice until he bent over to adjust his jean cuffs.

I can’t decide if Lifelike is brilliant as indicated by the pit in my stomach, or if it’s merely the context in which I viewed it. One thing is for sure: there is nothing “lifelike” about Lifelike and its warped perception of reality. It took an Old Fashioned and several pounds of a Korean BBQ date to sooth the nerves it frazzled.

-S

Steak & Frites at Perch

Posted on May 11, 2013 by Steph

Los Angeles, CA

Me: Would you recommend the crab cake benedict or the steak and frites?
Bartender: Oh, the steak and frites. They’re kind of amazing. I eat them all the time, like on the reg.

I looked back at the hip and stylish bartender and returned his look of intensity, hoping my gaze would convey an unspoken thought, This needs to be good or I will cut you. He didn’t look away, Like I said, on the reg. The fate of my Sunday brunch was in his hands.

What came out was more than I could have hoped for during brunch in LA – a succulent plate of juicy steak complete with cheesy soft fries that promised to never become rubbery. I sat in silence as I sipped on my Bloody Mary – how the hell did they do it? What is the secret to this fragrant, life changing sauce? Most importantly, how do I replicate this? Preposterous – it’s impossible!

No matter how sparingly I carved, it was over all too soon. I mopped up the last of the juices with the last of my fries, saddened by the prospect of the last bite. Who would have thought it’d be meat and potatoes atop the Pershing Building that would teach me the true meaning of saudade? One day we will meet again.

The end.

The Thing About San Diego

Posted on May 5, 2013 by Steph

Since my trip to LA, I’ve been thinking about San Diego as a whole and its inadequacies. My decision in moving here was the result of envisioning a glorious beach lifestyle, and that’s exactly what I got. I had overlooked the peripherals of a laid back environment that cultivates burnt out bros and their one track mind for the beach and booze.

To be fair, there are things that make it easy to stay here. San Diego is the mecca for beach activity; life revolves around it. From eating and drinking, to shopping for food, dating, riding bikes, reading, kayaking, working overtime – all Saturday activities can be completed by or on the beach. Traffic is tame outside of rush hour reigns (I despise you, LA traffic), and for the most part free parking is but a 2 minute search radius away. There’s access to a healthy lifestyle from a plethora of healthy food and grocery options to a dizzying array of fitness classes in every neighborhood, and exercise isn’t a novelty challenge to be completed (prevalent on the east coast, I’ve heard). And though I have my qualms about the general population, there seems to be an agreement of great significance: don a tee shirt and pair of jeans and it’s still a fancy night out. I realize I’m speaking in strong generalities, but in relation to other metropolises around the world, for the most part San Diegans just don’t give a damn about haute couture.

Looking over the last paragraph, the city of San Diego is a great one that services the majority of my needs for the time being. My gripes with this beautiful city sound trivial, but even so I crave a place that feels alive with a diverse population full of excitement and personality – an abundance of 5 star dining options would be great too. I suppose that’s the thing about San Diego: it’s easy to love, but it just isn’t enough.

-S

The Last Bookstore

Posted on May 2, 2013 by Steph

Downtown Los Angeles, CA

Wander LA and ye shall find,
Farmers with daisies
Singing in their pots
And magical books
At Flourish & Blotts!

{I am indeed exposing the ultimate hipster hideout.}

If there was a place fit to serve as Harry Potter’s textbook source, it’d be this cozy store tucked in the corner of the first and second floors of a rather inconspicuous looking building. Mere muggles would walk beyond it, but a real wizard would know that a small entrance opens into a much larger antique foyer lined and filled to the brim of the hat with books and tungsten glow. What old world secrets lurk behind the worn leather couches row after row of books shelved high? Hipsters, wizards, and bookworms alike need not search any further for literary treasures as they reside right here in these shelves.

Watch books fly in bauble galore
Travel upstairs to see some more!

It gets better. The stairway hidden in the back leads to a second floor where visitors step into an enchanting realm of old timey globes, stubborn books and flying typewriters much like what I imagined Hogwarts to be before prior the movie era. This upper level is lined with eclectic miniature studios where local artists showcase their work ranging from archaic to contemporary, pastoral to loud.

I love this bookstore for exactly what it is and wish I could spend Sunday mornings here. I hope e-readers and tablets never find a way to replace the magic in visiting a bookstore and the hunt for something great.

-S

Chicken Liver at Black Hogg

Posted on April 30, 2013 by Steph

Silverlake, Los Angeles, CA

Spicy Chopped Chicken Liver at Black Hogg in Los Angeles: Sauteed Chicken Livers, Caramelized Serranos, Pile of Toast, Chicken Skin Cracklin’

Sauteed Chicken Livers, Caramelized Serranos, Pile of Toast, Chicken Skin Cracklin’ – $9

If there’s a distinct demarcation of taste, it’s between those who like liver and those who don’t. Nobody dances on that line. I for one love chicken liver thanks to my mother who cleverly and discretely fed me dirty rice, and thank goodness for Fat Tuesday’s wouldn’t be the same without it. You might also check into some of its health benefits because chicken liver is a superfood.

The Spicy Chopped Chicken Liver at Black Hogg was merely a consolation prize; the Uni Toast was the real reason for this visit. Emphasis on freshness be the darnest as sea urchin was not fresh that day, but luckily clucking fresh chicken liver is plentiful and what a delicious poor man’s Uni Toast this was! I would certainly recommend this deliciously spicy pate if not solely for the garnish chicken rind. Chomp.

I would not recommend the Lamb & Rice, because I discovered that there is such a thing as overly fat lamb belly, not to mention the rice fell flat.

-S

brbdinner.com

a life a la mode.