The Haus of Boudoir Autumn Gala
I sent my lawyer the first draft of my review of the party thrown by Lola Frost and Little Miss Risk. This is what he sent back…
The Week That Was Part 1: The “Ladies of Main St. Tour”
It was a Twitter message from the bowels of the Brewery Creek Liquor Store that sent me off down Main St. last Sunday: “If you ever want to feel better about your problems, looks or life in general, hang around my liquor store Sun AM.” A cry for help like that is hard to ignore, even for the Captain of the SS Californian.
Most of my recent weekend sojourns to Main St. start the same way: harassing and confounding the talented and lovely Miss Lydia DeCarllo at Scout Boutique at Main and 8th. My reason for going was to check out visit with Miss DeCarllo. Your reason for going? Checking out the Pin-Up fashions and accessories that pack the store. To this end, I suggest attending a fashion show they have coming up on Thursday, October 20, at 8pm. Come to see ME! Stay for the clothes.
Miss Lydia DeCarllo
My next stop was a new one. I’d been there before with my “crazy redhead friend” who described it as one of her “favourite stores in Vancouver.” On this particular Sunday, I was headed up to Lace Embrace to see Miss Tristan Risk, Little Miss Risk to some. I don’t know if the “Little” is because she’s certainly not the tallest person I’ve met or because, when she’s laced up, you could fit the elastic band from a grocery store stalk of celery around her waist with little or no effort. Both are equally plausible. I don’t get to talk with Miss Risk that often, which is a shame. We’re both history buffs, especially where it pertains to this wicked city of ours. Lace Embrace is about 1/2 a block east of Main at 16th. Stop by for a custom made corset or get fitted off the rack. Who doesn’t need a corset? Boring people. That’s who. Also, buy a calendar while you’re there. I forgot to, but will rectify that error on my next visit.
Little Miss Risk - Photo by David Denofreo
Okay, so a Pin-Up boutique and a corset atelier may be strange fare for some, but they’re both locally owned and operated shops. Sure, they’re not The Bay, but the only people who shop at The Bay are 12 year olds buying perfume for their mom and/or a tie for dad.
Crossing the street and heading back down Main towards my belov’d North Shore mountains, I arrive at the Brewery Creek Liquor Store. I’m here to pop in on Miss Villainy Loveless. I get a two-for-one deal. Not only is Miss Loveless manning the till with skill, precision, and attitude, but Shiloh Lindsey is also on site. I love Shiloh. There’s no two ways about it and no way to get out of it. I wouldn’t hesitate to list her among names like Cline, Cash, Jennings, and Lynn when it came to reasons why I like country music. We chat for a bit after a hug that may have been just long enough to be socially awkward. She smiled. I melted then bought a bottle of Baron Bohemian style Czech beer.
When I get to the till, Miss Loveless asks if I plan to just walk down Main drinking the beer. Yes. Yes I do. People in Vancouver tend to leave you be provided you don’t get too extreme, in which case they just plain ignore you. I actually first met Villainy Loveless as one half of the Switchblade Sisters performing at a Shiloh Lindsey show. Our conversation goes much “drier” on this day. The last time I saw her was the Vancouver Zombie Walk and she spent the whole day covered in sticky fake blood and lisping through gold grills. San Pellegrino was required. My beer having been mysteriously opened, we had a delightfully unsticky hug and I was on my way again.
Shiloh Lindsey
Miss Villainy Loveless - Photo by David Denofreo
I made my way back down Main St. fully intending to hit up The Keefer Bar for some dim sum and a cocktail. However, as I walked past the Ivanhoe, blues music poured from its doors. Inside, the jam band was setting up and real pints of beer were only $3.75. I remember singing a couple tunes with the band and that’s about all. From this point on, things get a bit sketchy. I think I stopped at the London Pub. And I think I made it to The Keefer Bar. All this I piece together from VISA slips and quasi-reliable, secondhand witness reports.
I think I also made it to The Squarerigger as well. This last one I’m assuming as I woke up with a Rigular in my guest room.
Anyhow… Main Street: Good people, good exercise, good fun.
Well, wasn’t that a party: GOtoGAL hits the stage with S.T.A.G.E. Vancouver
Either I am doing something very right or very wrong, because it seems that I am being invited to much classier parties than those to which I am accustomed these days. Most recently, last Thursday to be exact, I was invited out to the premier party for CHEK TV’s newest sitcom, GOtoGAL. The show features Adera Angelucci in what she described as a cross between “a lifestyle show and a sitcom.” S.T.A.G.E. Vancouver threw the party at The Waterfall Building, 1540 W. 2nd Ave.
The “wine & canapés” started at 7pm. As per usual, I found myself downtown about two hours early and waiting for someone. She sent me message to let me know she’d meet me in about half an hour. Standing at the corner of Granville and Georgia with time to kill means only one thing: The Lennox Pub. It’s only ever one or two beers and I almost never sit, but many an urban adventure has begun exactly the same way.
I put back a quick pint and retake the corner. My “date” arrives about the same time the VPD are proving what a green city Vancouver is trying to be by making a traffic stop on foot. We try to decide which bus to take, made more difficult now that advertising seems to have replaced all transit maps at the bus stops. We figure the one that says “Granville” is probably a pretty safe bet.
After a quick stroll down Fir St. and a related discussion about what Venice smells like in August heat, we arrive at The Waterfall Building. It’s a block or so west from Granville Island and a charming locale. Central enough to be easily found, yet secluded enough that the sounds of the city don’t drown out your thoughts. They have a waterfall for that.
The crew from AVEDA are giving quick touch ups to the hosts and, later on, arriving guests. My friend heads in to see if her help is required, appearing again only to make off with my lighter. Not one to stand around aimlessly, I head across the street to take pictures of a charming, community garden nestled in a long decommissioned rail bed.
I return just before 7, and tuck myself into the line-up to sign in. My friend expresses concern that I may not be on the list. I assured her that I’ve RSVP’d. I say this with a grin, because this same friend was supposed to put my name of the list for VIP access to a Serena Ryder show during the Olympics… Supposed to… Anyway…
I skip the AVEDA hair treatment, though I must say the guests that did partake of a quick fix seemed to be enjoying the attention. All the grooming was needed for the red carpet entrance complete with event photo by Christa Madison Photography. I’m usually happy with a beer and a place to nip off for a smoke but the ladies at S.T.A.G.E. Vancouver (Kylie Mattu and Cait McDonald) had obviously put some thought into how to give all their guests the star treatment that night.
I went off in search of the bar. Inside the room BLENZ had set up to supply the non-alcoholic fare. To say that “wasn’t my cup of tea” would be a horrible pun but what is done is done. Let us move on. They had five wines to choose from (3 red, 2 white) and I managed to sample a couple as drink tickets kept magically appearing in my jacket pocket.
Four tables for people to stand at and a small stage were set up. Other tables ringed the room but one was for the DJ (DJ Emenes from MiB Roadshow), one was for a Qoola frozen yogurt display, one for BLENZ, and one for some items being silently auctioned. I almost put my name down for the tutu and the dog training. One of which I need; the other would make a great souvenir of the evening.
The room wasn’t cluttered but the room itself seemed small. It may have been the white walls and dull floor; the postmodern “blah” was broken by the several charming, flower displays (by Garlands Florist), but oddly enough, when the room filled it was actually a near perfect size to accommodate every guest.
The food started making its rounds. The following day, I emailed Heather Wright of Louis Gervais Fine Foods and Catering for the menu:
Caprese Crostinis: heirloom tomatoes, bocconcini, and fresh pesto served on a baguette crostinis and drizzled with balsamic crema
Prawn Brochettes: in a soy, sesame marinade
Nugget Potato Bites: steamed nugget potatoes filled with a crisp bacon & fresh herb aioli
Smoked Paprika Popcorn: displayed in Chinese to go boxes to be placed on each table
The food kicked ass. I even got my very own box of popcorn. There was also a great plate of organic, low-fat cheese from Energy Essentials making the rounds and I found myself strategically placing my cheese-lovin’ butt in its path a few times.
Outside having a smoke, a couple of the guys from KIA, also an event sponsor, wanted to know why I was taking pictures of my food. We ended up discussing why Rick Perry won’t be the next President of the United States. Go figure.
A little, red scooter from Cycle BC and two KIAs also sat in the courtyard and I was leaning on one when introduced to Daniel Sabina of Showmax Event Services. They’d supplied the lighting for the evening. He was impressed to hear that I’d once worked for Westsun Lighting (decades ago) and had almost been killed by one of Bryan Adam’s road cases.
Local singer/songwriter, Laurell, woos the crowd with a short set. Her CD, "Can't Stop Falling", was in our gift bags.
Star of GOtoGAL and Guest of Honour, Adera Angelucci, thanks the crowd and introduces the premier episode.
While out in the courtyard, either Kylie or Cait (and sometimes both) would go whizzing past in that speedy non-run only women in heels seem to be able to pull off. I think if I were ever to hire an event planner, I’d want them running about making sure that everything was perfect. Having your event planner go running past with a first aid kit or a fire hose would be slightly disconcerting, but as it happens, the only issue of the evening was a tripped fuse.
While the crowd was watching the premier episode of GOtoGAL (I admit, I wasn’t), I was outside chatting with Harv Puni, “Hollywood Harv”, the event’s MC. Kylie walked past, smiled, then cocked her head to the sound of silence coming from the main room. She poked her head inside for a moment, popped back out, then threw a beckoning finger towards Hollywood Harv. “Come with me.” They both disappeared inside. Cait waltzed past in the other direction with a power bar and moments later the show was up and running again. Kylie re-emerged, a little frazzled. This was S.T.A.G.E. Vancouver’s first event and she was stressed. I explained to her that I thought it was going well and that from experience, most of the event planners I knew (one in particular) would have gone into cardiac arrest by now, so she was doing just fine. She didn’t need anyone to tell her that though. One look at the face of any of person in attendance would have been enough to know that people were enjoying themselves. I do think she appreciated the kind words though. Event planners, by the very nature of their job, are the only people guaranteed to never relax and enjoy the parties they throw. I had a great time even though I had to leave somewhat early…
I told her I had to make my way elsewhere. She thanked me for coming and gave me a gift bag. I said goodnight to my friend and got into a short, but animated, conversation about Romanticism.
So, to S.T.A.G.E. Vancouver I say this:
If the leaving words spoken by one of your guests are, “And now my fair friends, I must off into the evening in a would-be tuxedo, with a gift bag and a camera in search of strippers and an Arabian princess” you probably threw one hell of a party.
“So you don’t like craft beer, eh?”
Every six weeks or so, I take a picture like the one below. Every time I do, Chris Funnell dies a little inside.
Chris Funnell is the manager of the Kooner Hospitality Group’s 16th Street Liquor Store in West Vancouver. Every time I see him, he has a new suggestion about a great new dish he discovered at a new eatery somewhere and exactly what beer or wine one should pair with it. Then, I’ll invariably make him cringe by telling him about the brawl I won to drink the last room temperature Pilsner at a house party I’d just returned from without my head ever hitting a pillow.
With this being the case, it seemed fitting that, when I arrived at The Pumphouse last Friday, he should be the first person I recognized. I’d never been to The Pumphouse before and I’d made the trip out to Richmond to attend a beer tasting hosted by Beerthirst and KHG. Beerthirst is the Jerry Maguire of the beer world; they’re agents for beer, a “conduit from the beer craftsman to the beer connoisseur.” Good people to know in my book. Chris sits with Rob Angus, Massey Tanaka (from Beerthirst), and company president, Norman Eng. They talk shop. We talk beer.
Chris has to leave early but before he goes, he looks me right in the eye, takes me by the shoulders, and says, “keep an open mind and enjoy the beer.” Shortly thereafter, Tony Iaci, the manager of The Pumphouse, arrives with an armload of beer which Rob and Massey start doling out to the group assembled.
Massey Tanaka serves the customers at the Moylan's Long Table Tasting
The food dish follows shortly, distributed by Tony and the charming serving staff of The Pumphouse. The first course is a charred romaine salad with candied pecans in an asiago dressing paired with a glass of Moylan’s Extra Special Bitter. The salad is very simple but very good. Whoever originally dreamt up the idea of putting romaine hearts on a open flame was a genius. Usually when lettuce gets warm it’s all limp and slimy because it’s on some half ass burger that’s been sitting under a heat lamp while the waitress finished her phone call. But this is very different. The charring brings out a sweetness in the lettuce I never knew existed and the Extra Special Bitter washes it down nicely.
The second course is a dry spiced pork loin served on couscous and it is insanely good. The Moylan’s Irish Style Red Ale is more to my liking than the Extra Special Bitter.
The third course is as simple as the first: prawns biryani with sauteed garlic spinach. It is almost a perfect curry. Just the right level of spice with large, perfectly cooked prawns and it all goes wonderfully with the Moylan’s India Pale Ale. The Pale Ale, on it’s own, was a little strong to my taste (PBR and Pilsner) but combines very well with the dish.
The dishes were prepared in The Pumphouse’s kitchen by Daniella Iaci (whom I believe to be Tony’s cousin). I don’t get a chance to meet her (she did come out to great the customers at the tasting later) as I was unable to stay for the last three courses The first three were enough to convince me that this is something I would certainly do again.
I thought of tastings as being a snobby affair with pretentious people telling you why your taste was “wrong”, etc; however, this experience was a friendly, casual one. The staff at The Pumphouse are a friendly bunch and the people I met from Beerthirst all seemed to be perfectly suited to an awesome job.
Both The Pumphouse and Beerthirst have coming events listings on their webpages and I recommend you attend a tasting. You’ll be glad you did. In the end, I certainly was. Like Chris said, “keep an open mind and enjoy the beer.”
The Long Table Tasting was a casual, unpretentious affair
The Pumphouse deserves kudos for a menu that was well planned, well executed, and well served
Anticipation grows as the first "taster" of the evening starts making the rounds
Best pasta I can make
Okay, it may not be the best pasta ever but I like it and I think you will like it to.
You need:
Olives – black, green, pink, whatever… just pick your favourite.
A bell pepper – again, whatever colour pick your fave. I like the red ones, not so much for taste but look.
Red onion – ’nuff said.
Capers – got to have capers.
Garlic – One to a thousand cloves. Do what you like.
Anchovie paste – don’t “blech!” until you taste it.
Tomatoes – fresh, out of can, whatever… it’s all getting cooked anyway.
Olive oil and butter.
Basil, oregano, dill weed, parsley – fresh, dried, go wild.
Salt and coarsely ground pepper to taste.
Pasta – dealer’s choice
Heat some olive oil in a skillet. Chop up the peppers, garlic, red onion, and olives. You don’t need to cut the olives up too much. I just cut them because “pitted” doesn’t always mean what it says and it’s easier to find a pit with a kitchen knife as opposed to one of your teeth. Throw the veggies in with the oil when hot. KEEP STIRRING. Throw in your tomatoes and capers. When the tomatoes start breaking down, lob in a chunk of butter and stir in a good squirt of the anchovie paste. You can add the herbs now or later, doesn’t matter. When it’s all soft and gooey, serve on top of pasta or mix it in, whatever.
You will have noticed that there were no exact measurements in this recipe (chunks, squirts). I love to cook; I love to eat. Experiment. Have fun. Cook.
And when you’re done, don’t eat: DINE.
Enjoy your food with friends. Talk, laugh, live.
When life hands you ground beef, make chili
Unlike most of you, I don’t go back to work until Wednesday. Today would have been a great day to go out and take pictures or, at the very least, walk around. But I am stuck at home. My bathroom is being renovated and I have to sit here and wait for the construction guys. I’ve put together many a bathroom but couldn’t be arsed to do my own. (*phone rings) They’re not coming.
So what does a somewhat creative guy do when he’s stuck at home with a warring dog and cat and the need to explore? He cooks.
I’m still dressed in my pajamas. It’s kind of a lazy pragmatism. I’m not going out until later, why get dressed until then? My neighbours must get sore necks with all the double-takes they must do in the direction of my windows. Today their neighbour was taking pictures of himself making chili wearing his pajamas at 3 pm. There goes the neighbourhood. Maybe I’ll invite them for chili and be dressed when they arrive.
Yum
Broiled steak with prawns in butter garlic… stir-fried veggies in balsamic vinegar sauce… Damn I make myself hungry sometimes.
The Week That Was Part 3: One year of Sweet Soul Burlesque and Sweet Sip Thursdays at The Keefer Bar
This piece is for Mandy-Lyn, Dani, Gezza, Keenan, Free, Lauren, Cam, and Gair to name far too few. And of course, to Lola, Tristan, Crystal, Rufio, and the wealth of beautiful and truly talented people they have introduced into my life.
A twirl of a downward turned finger puts an unnamed bourbon cocktail in my hand. The room is dark, deliberately so. Small, filament-filled, test tubes hang from the ceiling, casting dim shadows into even dimmer corners. The bar staff can provide you with a mini flashlight to read the drink menu, but I prefer to use the onion shaped oil lamps that dot the bar surface. I rarely glance at the menus anymore, preferring to trust the bartender’s discretion over my own taste. Bartenders get to know me pretty quick and from night to night my taste is often dictated by the gustatory gumption of the person facing me from the other side of the bar. This is why I return to The Keefer Bar whenever I can make the trip into Chinatown from my wooded, suburban enclave. To be honest, it is one of the reasons. The other has to do with why my visits almost always fall on a Thursday.
Sweet Sip Thursdays with the ladies of Sweet Soul Burlesque.
It was Keefer bartender, Gezza McAlpine, who first turned me onto the “finger twirl” ordering system; unspoken communication being a valuable tool when The Keefer gets busy. As for burlesque, I’d like to give that one to Red Heartbreaker, but it actually belongs to Natalie Wood and Gypsy. It was Red, however, that got me out to my first burlesque show. It was at The Biltmore Cabaret and the closing party for the Vancouver International Burlesque Festival. Her troupe, Pink Flamingo Burlesque, were performing. It was quite an eye opener. I was no stranger to strippers, but this was definitely different. I managed to get out to a few more of Pink Flamingo’s shows but it never became a habit. On December 2, 2010, I walked into The Keefer for the first time and a habit (going to The Keefer. Booze was already well in play!) was born.
The very first drink I ever had at The Keefer, December 2, 2010
Last Thursday, I was down at The Keefer again to help the ladies (and gents) of Sweet Soul Burlesque celebrate one year of performing at The Keefer. To be honest, I was a little too drunk that night to relate to you all the amazing acts that hit the stage. I usually have to swing back through my twitter feed to remember such things. What I do remember are the conversations, the personal interactions. Sweet Sip Thursday is a happening. I have heard some derogatory things about the burlesque there but, for me, those comments are inconsequential to what I write here. I have met a lot of burlesque performers in the past few months. They all have they own styles, their own reasons for being there. But had it not been for the ladies of Sweet Soul performing Thursday nights I would never have met any of those people. Nor would I have met some of the people who have had the most profound effects on my life in the past 10 months. I even had a homeless man save my life in the parking lot one embarrassing evening. Had it happened on Granville Street, I would have been robbed of $4000 and frozen to death.
I once complained to Danielle Tatarin, the bar’s manager, that she needed to hire uglier staff (Danielle, herself, has made the best cocktail in the world in competition). When I made the crack about “uglier staff” it wasn’t completely shallow. Her staff are amazing. They have turned me on to new horizons of art, music, and literature, all the while serving up the best cocktails in Vancouver. I have semi-regular conversations with The Keefer’s owner (suites and bar), Cam, about how if he gets an offer for the penthouse on a Friday, I want a weekend to check my lottery tickets and make a counter offer before he signs the papers. I think he might just do it too.
A visit to The Keefer Bar on a Thursday is a night filled with handshakes, hugs, winks, and kisses. Sweet Soul Burlesque is a glitter-filled street gang and the staff at The Keefer facilitate a party like few can.
October 11, 2011 | Categories: Art, Fellatio, and Other Heady Subjects, Straight from The Bear's loud mouth (insane ramblings disguised as social commentary), [re]Discovering Vancouver | Tags: Baron S. Cameron, British Columbia, burlesque, Canada, cocktails, fashion, food, humour, keefer bar, music, sweet soul burlesque, Vancouver, writing | Leave A Comment »