at the sign of The Pink Pig

London: Coming Late To Arbutus

[Pigging by Wilfrid:  September 28, 2015]

This finally clears the outbox from last month's trip to the UK and Ireland.  Late to Arbutus came I, not because I was indifferent to its appeal. I tried hard to eat here when it first opened, but couldn't get a reservation which coincided with a London visit.

Then there was a period I didn't get over to Europe hardly at all.  This time around, on a weekday evening in summer, the restaurant--still Michelin-starred--was largely deserted.  (And yes, badly lit for photography.)

Grouseward Ho! Ten Years Ago

[Pink Pig Time Machine by Wilfrid:  September 28, 2015]

That time of year.  Grouse in season, and I should be headed back to London to try it.  I was still ploughing through R.S. Thomas's huge collected poems, and filling gaps by reading Madam Bovary for the first time, and John O'Hara's Pal Joey.

And at home I was eating Hungarian liver sausage which I think I found at Koglin, the now closed European charcuterie stall in Grand Central Market. 

Strange Fascination: Kin Khao, SF

[Pigging by Wilfrid:  September 15, 2015]

Am I expert in Thai food?  No I am not.  Have I been to Thailand?  Yes, twice.  Have I eaten Thai food in London, New York, and Sydney.  Yes, indeed. But I am no expert. Relevantly, I don't pretend to cook it.

But I will say that I know complexity of flavor derived from sparkling fresh ingredients when I come across it; and in my experience, for what it's worth, Kin Khao leaves the Thai restaurants (in the cities where I've tried them) standing. And no offence to Sripraphai, which is charming  but operating at a wholly different level.

Quick Bites: Sam's, SF

[Pigging by Wilfrid:  September 21, 2015]

It's late at night.  You've been re-visiting old haunts in Chinatown and North Beach. Where did all the Chinese drinkers go who used to sink brandies at Li Po? Why is it full of students drinking Mai Tai's?

Is Vesuvio still here?  Yes.  And the old Tosca? Yes.  And now you're hungry and the Chinese places are closed, and downhill seems a long way. There's always Sam's.

Cercle Rouge To Zydeco: Ten Years Ago

[Pink Pig Time Machine by Wilfrid:  September 21, 2015]

Ten years ago, I came down with a bad attack of arthritis--something I've slowly made a specialty over the years.  So the first few days of the week involved home cooking; and I must have had a lot of rabbit in the house.

I eventually made it out for some restaurant meals and a day trip.

Thomastown: Sol Bistro

[Pigging by Wilfrid:  September 14, 2015]

I think we were in O'Hara's, or it may have been Carroll's, talking about the hurling, when we were told that a bar which had been closed awhile had reopened bringing the current total up to eleven, or was it twelve?

This was a paradoxically wintry summer's evening in Thomastown, where a fine, icy drizzle doesn't deter the boys and girls from practicing with their paddles in a deeply green field down by the river.

Flamenco Y Mas: Ten years Ago

[Pink Pig Time Machine by Wilfrid:  September 14, 2015]

No sooner was I back from Madrid than I found myself buying tickets for the Repertorio Español. This small Spanish-language theater on East 27th Street is one of New York's little treasures, the company performing contemporary Spanish drama and what you might call modern classics--Garcia Lorca, for example--in repertory.

I've seen a number of plays there over the years, but on this occasion we saw veteran Flamenco dancer Pilar Rioja; and for all Rioja's grace and precision, I found myself as usual distracted by the singing (David Castellano and Alfonso Cid).

Portrait Of The Clocktower

[Pigging by Wilfrid:  September 9, 2015]

Or "What James Atherton Knew"? I just feel Henry James would have been at home here, in a restaurant which is a confused but ultimately successful mash-up (James's favorite compound noun) between British food in a stately home setting, and '70s New York chic in rooms Gilbert Osmond would have recognized and appreciated.

 

And if all that is too much nonsense and allusion, let me assure that the cooking here is rather good. But who's it for?

The Call Of La Sirène

[Free Stuff by Wilfrid: September 7, 2015]

Sirens, those dangerous creatures of myth, luring sailors to their doom on the rocks. In the case of this particular siren, luring customers from the Holland Tunnel-bound clatter of the west SoHo streets to a traditional and reliable French bistro experience.

The call of La Sirène was piercingly heard back in 2008, when Frank Bruni published a glowing one star review (people forget that one star reviews can be good): "But this scrappy restaurant, where you can hear the bell every time a dish is ready and heat from the kitchen steams diners’ eyeglasses, will charm many people turned off by the vacuous polish and higher prices elsewhere."

Santceloni, Madrid: Ten Years Ago

[Pink Pig Time Machine by Wilfrid: September 8, 2015]

Little more than a year had passed since my first trip to Madrid and Granada, and here I was again.  Didn't lose my luggage this time. My diary notes for the first couple of days are desultory, but no matter, because I repeated the central city tapas bar excursions of the previous year. Read that here.

But after a day or two of acclimatization, I climbed aboard the restaurant train.