The Rake Magazine

Category: Blog Post

  • Porter & Frye: Chew on This

    "So, who are Porter and Frye?", I asked the hostess last
    night. "Do they really exist?" She smiled, then said that various legends about
    Porter and Frye certainly did exist, and then got straight to the point: no,
    they were not real. The name was invented by a restaurant consultant. She said
    it’s supposed to suggest a dining experience that is high quality without being
    fancy, or something like that.

    Porter & Frye is the new restaurant inside the Hotel Ivy, described in the Star Tribune as the Twin Cities first five-star hotel.
    I am not sure how a hotel can have five stars the day it opens – but it
    doesn’t really matter – I used to be in the business of handing out stars myself,
    and I can tell you that they really don’t mean much.

    Well, the name sounds very waspy/British to me, and I don’t
    usually associate the cuisine of New England or Olde England with culinary
    creativity – more with cucumber sandwiches and roast beef and Yorkshire pudding
    and overcooked peas. But the two British names strung together do have a sort
    of uppercrust ring, as in Currier & Ives, Crabtree & Evelyn, Smith
    & Hawkens, Abercrombie & Fitch. But I have noticed lately, while
    shopping the bargain bins, that a lot of companies have gotten wise to this
    strategy, and there are a lot of off-brands of made-in-China merchandise that
    carry names like Cholmondeley &Fflolkes, designed to suggest the
    upper-crust.

    Too bad, because it gives the restaurant a bit of a wannabe
    aura before you even walk in the door. And it clashes just a bit with the image
    of talented chef Steven Brown, who has crafted a reputation as a sort of
    culinary Diogenes in search of real food and honest flavors – and has a
    repertoire that goes well beyond roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.

    Appetizers to share are priced by the half-pound – from $18
    for a sausage plate to $25 for charred ahi tuna and $26 for Alaskan king crab
    with lemon, capers, brown butter and a cocktail sauce. Entrée prices range from
    $10 for a medium portion of gnocchi in marinara sauce, and $13 for a vegan
    preparation of squash and broccoli rabe in a maple tofu sauce, all the way up
    to $49 for a dry-aged bone-in ribeye and $65 for a surf-and-turf of lobster and
    New York steak.

    We only sampled a few dishes – a beautifully presented
    arugula salad ($7) with golden baby beets and sliced kumquats in a black pepper
    and citrus vinaigrette ($7), a very rich and elegant ham hock and rock shrimp
    chowder, the aforementioned vegan squash entrée (tasty but insubstantial), and
    a delightful parmesan-crusted walleye ($16), very fresh and moist, and
    perfectly complemented by a savory lobster risotto. The real highlight of the
    evening was the dessert – a silky and sensuous panna cotta ($8), served over coconut
    and passionfruit creams.

    I’m not going to offer up any sweeping judgments about the place because it’s too early, and I didn’t same enough different dishes, but my first general impressions are that the quality is very high – as you would expect from Steven Brown. Some of the prices also seem quite high but if you choose carefully, there are affordable options. I wish I had known about the bar menu, which offers gourmet burgers and pizzas in the $10-$12 range, before I ordered dinner. It’s available in the bar and adjoining first floor dining room, but not in the lower level dining room.

    Kathy Jenkins of the Pioneer Press reviewed Porter &
    Frye right after it opened and trashed it, which sparked a lively discussion on
    MinnSpeak. Is it fair to rate a restaurant so soon? .

    I don’t think so. (Jenkins has done this before – I
    spoke to another local chef recently, who complained that she showed up right
    after he opened and gave him the same treatment.)

    When I reviewed restaurants at the Strib, the policy was to
    write a short just-the-facts Now Open piece as soon as possible after opening,
    but to wait at least a month before running a real review with positive or
    negative judgments. Actually, I don’t see much harm in running a positive piece
    based on a very early first impression, (as Rick Nelson did in his Now Open
    piece on Porter & Frye), but a negative piece can be unfair and damaging.

    But this is a case where I am a firm believer in a double
    standard. Because newspaper critics still have a lot more influence, they need
    to be a lot more careful – and to hold their fire until the restaurant has had
    a chance to work out the snafus. But a blogger like little old me simply isn’t
    going to have the same impact, so there is less reason to hold back – and a
    critical review early on from a blogger can actually serve as a valuable
    wake-up call for a newly opened restaurant – here are some issues you had
    better work out before the big guys show up at your door.

     

  • Primarily Screwed

    If astronomers and astrophysicists are correct, we’ve got
    another 13-16 billion years until the universe collapses under its own mass and
    hubris in a Big Crunch – making it all the more impressive that it has taken just a few short months for Sen. Hillary Clinton’s
    world to implode, compacting itself into a fiery mass of universal healthcare and
    primary-hued pantsuits. And best of all, emanating from deep within the core of
    this soon-to-be black hole from whence no screams or painfully contrived holiday
    greeting     can escape, is a sound familiar to anyone with an eight year old –
    whining.

    Yes, even as we eagerly hang on every word about the hard
    fought Democratic primaries in Texas, Rhode Island, Vermont and Ohio from MPR
    correspondents and CNN pundits, tuning in to Naked
    News     just in case that austere and respected bastion of quality reporting
    may have picked up on a polling nuance that others haven’t, the Clinton camp is
    engaging in an entertaining campaign of whining and finger pointing. Top
    campaign advisors Mark Penn and Harold Ickes have already started to distance
    themselves from what is rapidly starting to appear to be a Dean-esque clusterfuck,
    with Penn saying something to the effect of, "I just stopped in to use the
    wi-fi and surf porn. They asked me about some campaign messages, but I didn’t
    think they’d actually take my advice. Dumbasses."

    And at this point, none of this comes as a surprise. The
    attitude of the Clinton camp from the launch of the campaign was that of the
    anointed standard-bearer of the Democratic party. As a result, the campaign
    became that painfully attractive guy/girl who feels like they can just lay
    there while we do all the work. What the Clintons didn’t realize was that
    liberals across America just wanted to get their freak on, and would happily do
    so with an upstart senator from Illinois with a populist message and a knack for oratory that can
    moisten progressive panties     from sea to shining sea.

    But since they were the front-runners for so long, don’t
    they have every right to be obnoxiously whiny? Are they not well within their
    rights when pointing fingers at the media for being so hard on Sen. Clinton, at
    each other for not providing winning strategies for undermining the hope for
    change that Obama uses as his rallying cry, and at Sen. Clinton for being the
    unappealing, though well-intentioned and profoundly intelligent, battle-axe
    we’ve all come to know and love?

    The simple answer is yes, they’re free to whine. This is
    America after all – a land where freedom reigns supreme, former Mickey Mouse Club members can parlay fame into
    failure and Cristina Aguilera
    turns out to be the sane one. But if they feel the need to whine, they should
    be whining about the right things – such as the fact that the campaign never
    recovered from its failures in Iowa, where underfunding and understaffing
    doomed Clinton to finishing in third place. Or perhaps they should focus on the
    painful truth that Bill Clinton’s hubris lost them several southern states as
    he fought a doomed campaign in South Carolina when he could’ve done far more
    good elsewhere, failing to make up for the lousy
    aim     that landed him in only the second presidential impeachment trial in
    the history of the United States. Or even worse, that the same political strategists
    who raked in $5 million in January alone, $10 million in total, can’t come up
    with a better idea to counteract Barack Obama’s surging popularity than the chimpanzee
    approach     – throw a whole lot of shit at the wall and see what sticks.

    Sadly, not much has seemed to as of yet. While Clinton is
    reeking of desperation, frustration and, in a futile attempt to appeal more to
    females aged 18-34, copious amounts of Axe Body Spray, Obama seems
    largely untouched. And despite the stench, Clinton says she’s "…just getting warmed
    up    ." Apparently the old girl needs a lot of foreplay. It’s a good thing Sen. Clinton
    is finally ready though, since by the end of today we ought to know if Hillary is as
    well and truly boned as the women Bill has been picking up along the campaign
    trail.

  • Money, War, Schizophrenia, and Genius

    THEATER & PERFORMANCE
    The Fortunes of King Croesus

    We’ve known it for at least three centuries, apparently: money doesn’t buy happiness. And yet we can’t seem to help ourselves, as we continue to search our shopping cart for the meaning of life, for peace, for the ole H-word — as we continue to work 24/7, searching for the perfect formula, vying for that million-dollar break-through. Composed by Reinhard Keiser, a contemporary of Handel, The Fortunes of King Croesus tells "a bittersweet and twisting tale of love and conquest where all is right in the end." Ah, a happy ending. Definitely not Shakespeare. Definitely not Puccini. But beautiful nonetheless, perhaps moreso if you’re looking for a glimmer of hope in the end, for which we all seem to be desperately grasping these days. The German Baroque opera, performed by The Minnesota Opera — accompanied by The Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra — will be sung in German with English captions projected above the stage. British tenor Paul Nilon stars as Croesus.

    7:30 p.m., Ordway Center for the Performing Arts, 345 Washington St, St Paul, 651-224-4222; $50-$130.

    Heather Raffo’s 9 Parts of Desire

    If you’re looking for some interesting theater tonight, you might want to check out Heather Raffo’s 9 Parts of Desire, a one-woman play about nine Iraqi women’s lives during war. I’ll be sure to tell you more as soon as I see it on Wednesday, but with director Joel Sass and Kate Eifrig as the lone performer, it’s bound to be worthwhile.

    7:30 p.m.,     Guthrie Theater, 818 S. 2nd St., Minneapolis; 612-377-2224; $18-$34.

    BOOKS & AUTHORS
    Laura Flynn’s Ocean

    Now that her new novel is out, you’ll be seeing quite a lot of Laura Flynn this month — if you so desire. Catch her this afternoon at the University of Minnesota Bookstore, or catch her next month at Magers & Quinn. She is sure to be at several venues in between. And her latest novel is likely worth the effort. Swallow the Ocean tells the tale of three young girls dealing with their mother’s downward spiral into schizophrenia. Might as well have her sign it and hear what she has to say.

    4 p.m., University of Minnesota Bookstore, Coffman Memorial Union, 300 Washington Ave. S.E., Minneapolis; 612-626-0559; free.

    BOOKS
    The World and Its Double: The Life and Work of Otto Preminger

    Smart as Hitchcock, incisive as Wilder, and independently minded as
    Cassavetes, Otto Preminger remained largely peerless during his career.
    He was one of the first Hollywood auteurs to challenge censorship rules
    and explore his own vision—one populated with honest studies of drug
    addiction, sexual deviance, and corrupt politics. As an establishment
    director, he introduced an anti-cinema subversion that inspired the Cahiers du Cinema
    crew. Unfortunately, many will only remember him for his role as Mr.
    Freeze in the original Batman TV show. Film historian Chris Fujiwara’s
    exceptional biography aims to change that with an analysis that
    achieves the seemingly impossible: It actually manages to inspire the
    reader to take another look at Exodus. —Christopher Hontos

    Available in bookstores nationwide.

  • Going to the Dogs

    I’m typically leery of wines with cute, punny, or outrageous names. Goats do Roam. The Unbearable Lightness of Riesling. Fat Bastard. They’re all truly dreadful. So I was expecting little when I uncorked the Rosenblum Cellars Côte du Bone Roan 2005 from Chateau La Paws.

    Here’s a surprise: I loved it. And that was before I found out that a large percentage of the profits from this wine go to benefit Paws for a Cause, a nonprofit operating in all 50 states that trains service dogs for people with disabilities.

    First, the wine. It’s a big, lusty, Parker-ish red made of Carignane, Syrah, Zinfandel, and Mourvedre. Nothing subtle here. There’s tons of brilliant fruit — mostly cherry, currant, and plum — with a weighty infusion of oak, pepper, and allspice.

    Yet, it’s smooth. Unlike a lot of the California wines, this one doesn’t slap you around. It lies neatly in the glass — viscous but still — and bursts into the mouth but finishes clean. The 14.9% alcohol can be a bit overpowering. But it won’t leave you thirsty for days, the way tannic Cabs from Napa sometimes do.

    Add to that the service aspect, and there could be no better reason for spending $13.99 on a bottle of wine. Winemaker Kent Rosenblum is a veterinarian by training, and in February 2008 he donated more than $43,000 in proceeds from Côte du Bone Roan and Côte du Bone Blanc to Paws for a Cause, to help train assistance dogs for people with disabilities, including hearing loss, cerebral palsy, muscular dystrophy, and spinal cord injuries.

    This organization even has a "seizure response" program that teaches dogs to recognize seizures and protect their owners from the attendant dangers, such as falling and choking.

    It is a rather odd thing, I think, that service animals are so universally effective. There could be no more visible cue to a person’s disability than the presence of a dog with a brightly-colored coat and stiff, tented harness. But the marriage of wise canine and frail human somehow promotes an unassailable dignity for both.

    I can think of no better way to spend my wine budget. And in this case, the drink itself is of quality, even apart from the good that it does.

  • The Three Pointer: Seattle Slew

    Copyright 2008 NBAE (Photo by David Sherman/NBAE via Getty Images)


    Game # 58, Home Game #31: Seattle 111, Minnesota 108

    Season Record: 12-46

    1. An Improving Beast

    During Kevin Garnett’s dozen years with the Wolves, I wrote a slew of game recaps which included as a stock phrase the caution that people shouldn’t take the incredibly high-level consistency KG was offering for granted. I think I’m safely on the record as saying that Al Jefferson is not, and probably never will be, the versatile monster that Garnett is on the court, but here goes my first-ever time pointing out that you do Big Al a disservice ignoring or downgrading his tremendous effort in the overtime loss to Seattle last night.

    Jefferson started the game shockingly cold from the field, bereft of his now famous touch around the hoop. He faked Johan Petro out of his jock and then drove left baseline, only to sail an airball in a manner that made it seem like he thought he was going to get fouled and went too strong. But he did it again later in the first quarter, on his patented spin move where you wonder how he knows where the hoop is–this time he didn’t, for airball 2. In between, he received a perfect feed in stride from Sebastian Telfair headed straight down the lane, only to barely graze the front iron with his floater, snatch the offensive rebound, and then travel while attempting the putback. He missed his first five shots and the Wolves, beseiged by bad matchups at the other end due to their small lineup (more on that later), fell behind by 10 before he finally got on the board via a fast-break layup off a Corey Brewer steal with 1:58 to play in the first. At the half he was 3-11 FG and Minnesota was still down 7, 51-58.

    But great players will themselves past off nights, and that’s exactly what Jefferson did in the second half. His 4-7 FG fueled Minnesota’s 3rd quarter surge into a one-point lead heading into the final period, and his 4th quarter was a demonstration of unstoppable thirst for baskets against double and triple teams as the Wolves fought tenaciously to hold their slim lead. After getting his early-quarter blow, he entered with 7:14 left to play and the score tied. Within two and a half minutes, he had a slam dunk, a baseline-spinning four-foot banker on the left block, and–a new wrinkle–a 5′ jump hook moving left to right across the lane. On the latter two baskets he was gang-guarded by Nick Collison, Damian Wilkins, Chris Wilcox. Didn’t matter. Wolves up by 5 with 4:45 to play.

    Yes, Jefferson and Craig Smith had difficulty containing Wilcox at the other end. There is no question that a defensive-oriented, shot-blocking center would be the ideal complement. But let’s talk about Jefferson’s most obvious leap forward during this game–his passing. After he’d consistently schooled the Sonics in crunchtime, he saw the looming triple-team and shrewdly dished it out to Corey Brewer for a wide-open look. When Brewer’s shot clanged, Jefferson bulled his way for the longish rebound, and then, with Seattle determined to thwart the putback, he rose up and dumped it down by the hoop to Craig Smith for an easy layup, his career-high fifth assist of the evening. (Smith likewise had a career-high five dimes, continuing his recent push for more stable and vital playing time.)

    To bring this Garnett-like point in the trey full circle, folks can rightly point out that Jefferson didn’t finish when it mattered, missing four of five field goal attempts and two crucial free throws during the overtime. Certainly fatigue might have played into this. At the end of regulation, Jefferson had scored 20 points in 20:05 of grueling, pressure-packed action in the second half, sinking 9-13 FG and 4-5 FT, the last two coming with 15 seconds left to play and the Wolves up two, 99-97. But I’d rather simply say, without Jefferson, there is no overtime happening in the first place. On a night when he clearly was out of sync with his shooting rhythm for most of the first half, he finished with 30 points, 13 rebounds and 5 assists, with the vast majority of those points coming with the game on the line and the opponents dead-set on ensuring that he wasn’t the player who beat them. That’s stardom treatment. And while it would certainly be nice if Jefferson became even a consistently mediocre defender, stardom is where he’s headed.

    2. Smallball Mistakes and Motley Mismatches

    It was interesting to note that nobody–Jefferson, Smith, Wittman–seemed especially disheartened by the loss, perhaps knowing that playing hard, entertaining games while positioning themselves for more ping-pong balls is not a bad outcome for a ballclub that just dumped Theo Ratliff and have the word "build" prominent in its new marketing campaign. (Fresh removed from two championships, Corey Brewer was the exception, dejectedly talking about the free throw that likely would have iced the game for Minnesota in the 4th quarter.)

    Anyway, it wasn’t with real rancor but simple force that Wittman said "I thought we were a little too relaxed coming out at the start. It put us behind the 8-ball…it lost us the game. The defense went through the motions…we defended nobody…and we didn’t move the ball like we were capable of doing."

    Nowhere was the subject of smallball included in this litany. And yet as the two teams began feeling each other out in the opening minutes, it was patently clear that the Sonics enjoyed two glaring mismatches: the 6-10 Wilcox on 6-8 Ryan Gomes at the power forward slot, and 6-4 Randy Foye trying to guard 6-9 Kevin Durant at the off-guard slot. If Wilcox hadn’t been cold from the field–he missed some easy looks over Gomes down low–Seattle might have played the perfect quarter. As it was, you throw out Wilcox’s 2-6 FG, and Seattle was a whopping 12-13 FG in the first quarter, and a perfect 11-11 FG inside the three point arc. Durant led the way with an almost casual 11 points on 4-4 FG and 3-3 FT. And Wilcox used his superior height and paint-jousting experience to outrebound the entire Wolves’ ballclub in the period, 7-6

    Things finally began to even out when Wittman subbed in Smith for Telfair with 2:35 to play in the period and the Wolves down 8. To Wittman’s belated credit, we never saw that pipsqueak starting five (Jefferson-Gomes-Brewer-Foye-Telfair) together again, and Wittman discovered that Kirk Snyder was his best stopper on Durant, throwing the gritty Utah and Houston castoff with the Mr. Potato Head nose in for 32:39 of the game’s final 40 minutes. Snyder knew what he was supposed to do, which put him about 4 years ahead of the person he was traded for, Gerald Green, already. Aside from 6 shots (he made 2), the largest number on his stat line was the 5 steals he registered, frequently on strips of Durant as the prolific-scoring rook was bringing the ball up to shoot in penetration. After the game, Jefferson called him a "tougher Corey Brewer" (then quickly amended it with copious praise for the heavy defensive role Brewer is already undertaking as a rookie), but Snyder reminded me more of a taller, perhaps quicker, Greg Buckner, a fine defensive presence who is among the many vets on the roster lost in the youth shuffle this season.

    Bottom line, while you could call this game entertaining and hard-fought, it was not particularly well-played, especially on defense. Minnesota is 20th in the league in points allowed–pretty sorry, considering they are next-to-last in points scored and thus don’t have the excuse of pace like Golden State or Phoenix–and Seattle is 25th. The two clubs combined were 90-173 FG. Snyder may have clamped down on Durant to compel his 4-14 FG shooting after the first period, but Foye and Telfair continued their matador ways with the point guards–Earl Watson shot 6-7 FG and Luke Ridenour went 5-8, for a combine
    d 28 points and 16 assists. Chris Richard, Smith and Jefferson couldn’t prevent Nick Collison from shooting 5-5 FG in the second period. And, in perhaps the best argument against constant smallball and the habits it engenders, the Wolves never could solve Wilcox, who sank 6-9 FG after that cold first period, grabbed a game-high 15 rebounds and was and incredible plus +15 in 42:42 of play, meaning the Sonics were minus -12 in the 11:18 he sat on the bench. With Doleac and Madsen in limbo, Ratliff cut, and Richard a sparsely deployed rookie, the Wolves default enforcement of the paint.

    3. Quick Hits

    Wittman took pains to point out that when Brewer missed the free throw with 10 seconds to play, the Wolves gambled on two steal attempts that enabled Durant to glide for a layup in transition just 6 seconds later to send the game to overtime. And he correctly noted that those types of steal attempts are what you do when you’re behind, not protecting a lead. Point taken. But is anyone else enjoying the tone Brewer (and, when healthy, Jaric) seems to be setting for the entire defense in terms of ambushing the passing lanes. Just a week after falling one steal short of the team-record 17 in a win over Utah, Minnesota filched 14 more last night, including Snyder’s five and three apiece from Brewer and Smith (who stuffed the stat line).

    Folks are fond of blasting Wittman’s end of game manuevers, and I’ve been fond of calling out Foye’s crunchtime ego. So let’s everybody note that Foye properly and conscientiously deferred to Jefferson during that 4th quarter glory and stepped up with two overtime buckets (after registering just a free throw in the 3rd and 4th quarters) when Jefferson was clanking in OT. And let’s note that both Wittman and Foye did everything right on the final play of regulation, when the ball went to Foye, he saw Jefferson covered, and kicked it to a wide open Ryan Gomes near the corner, who flat-lined the jumper off the back iron.

    Durant’s 25 points don’t compensate for his lackadaisical mien, indifferent defense, and tendency to ball hog. The kid is long, and is going to be a very potent scorer for a long time, but I’d hold off on the superstar jabber, or even rookie of the year talk. Luis Scola over in Houston is proving the Rockets don’t necessarily need the overrated Yao Ming to continue their playoff push. He’s my ROY.

     

  • Keep On Keeping On

    FILM
    Arranged

    Here’s an interesting show for you and the kids: Arranged,
    a tale of two Brooklyn teachers—Rochel, an Orthodox Jew, and Nasira, a
    Syrian Muslim—both of whom are in the process of being set up in
    arranged marriages. Somehow they manage to become close friends. By
    setting the film in a public grade school and forcing these two
    characters to endure the unquenchable curiosity of their young charges,
    the directors, Diane Crespo and Stefan Schaefer, have created a film
    that invites dialog without battering you over the head. This sweet
    little movie is full of fascinating characters and plenty of fine
    moments, especially those illuminating the painfully awkward steps
    toward meeting the men with whom these women will spend the rest of
    their lives. Watch to see that an arranged marriage has many of the
    same pitfalls as today’s conventional courtships. This screening is
    part of the Sabes Foundation Minneapolis Jewish Film Festival and will be followed by a luncheon with speakers Raleigh Kent and Jamila Kosobayasi. —Peter Schilling

    Friday at 11:30 a.m., Sabes Jewish Community Center, 4330 S. Cedar Lake Road, St. Louis Park; 952-381-3400.

    The Counterfeiters

    Told in flashback, The Counterfeiters
    is the exciting true story of Salomon Sorowitsch, who, in the years
    before World War II, was the world’s greatest counterfeiter. Arrested
    in Berlin, Sorowitsch is sent to the Sachsenhausen concentration
    camp—as both Jew and habitual criminal he’s considered doubly
    threatening. But the Germans find a use for Sorowitsch, putting him to
    work on “Operation Bernhard,” the Nazi plan to counterfeit U.S. dollars
    and the British pound, flood the market, and subsequently wreck the
    Allies’ economies. The prisoners involved in the operation—an uneasy
    mix of bankers, printers, and criminals—are given preferential
    treatment over the other Jews. Nevertheless, their actions have
    devastating consequences. As Sorowitsch, Karl Marcovicks is simply
    brilliant: At once a charmer and a rogue, you can’t take your eyes off
    him. —Peter Schilling

    Opens Friday at the Edina Cinema, 3911 50th St. W., Edina, 651-649-4416.

    Two Minnesota Films Featured in Women with Vision Film Festival

    The Walker’s Women With Vision Film Festival kicks off this evening (7:30 p.m.) with Older than America, filmed on location in Cloquet, Minnesota. Director Georgina Lightning, producer Christine Walker and special guest actress Tantoo Cardinal will introduce this haunting tale about a woman whose visions reveal a Catholic priest’s sinister plot to silence her mother from speaking the truth about the atrocities that took place at her Native American boarding school. Then on Saturday (2 p.m.), Short Films, Program One includes Labyrinth, by IFP member Jila Nikplay.

    Friday at 7:30 p.m., Saturday at 2 p.m., Walker Art Center, 1750 Hennepin Ave., Minneapolis; 612-375-7600; $8, members $6.

    SHOPPING
    Carlos Falchi Trunk Show

    If you’re as much of a handbag and accessory fanatic as Melinda Jacobs — or maybe just a Carlos Falchi fan — then head over to Pumpz & Company at the Galleria in Edina today to meet the designer in person. Falchi, whose bags have been featured in Sex and the City, The Devil Wears Prada, and Lipstick Jungle, will be autographing vintage Falchi bags at the event, and guests can custom design the bag of their dreams.

    Friday from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m., Galeria, 69th and France, Edina.

    MUSIC
    Dervish

    Kick off St. Paddy’s day a little early with the music of Dervish. For going on two decades, Dervish has brought traditional Irish music to the stage alongside such world-acclaimed musicians as James Brown, The Buena Vista Social Club, Oasis, Sting, REM, and Beck.

    Friday at 8 p.m., The Cedar Cultural Center, 416 Cedar Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-388-2674; $20.


    Party with Designer Drugs

    If electro-house is more your style, head to the Kitty Cat tonight for Hotel, their monthly dance night with DJ Jonathan Ackerman at the helm. This evening, Hotel welcomes ultra-hip Philadelphia electro party DJs Designer Drugs. Pulling from their classical music training, the duo creates club anthems with pop sensibilities.

    Friday at 10 p.m., Kitty Cat Klub, 701 1st Ave. N., Minneapolis; 214-957-2148.

    And on Sunday, be sure to catch Steve Earle, with special guest Allison Moorer, at First Avenue.

    BOOKS & AUTHORS & MORE MUSIC
    Perfect From Now On

    John Sellers    , author of Perfect From Now On: How Indie Rock Saved My Life, will host an event at the 7th Street Entry on Saturday, which features two Guided By Voices tribute bands: The Textbook Committee and The Girl Guides, and Minneapolis bands Cortez the Killer and The Cans.

    Saturday at 8 p.m., 7th Street Entry, 701 First Ave. N., Minneapolis; 612-332-1775; $5.

    BENEFIT & EVEN MORE MUSIC!
    Club Diva

    On Saturday International Market Square
    will be transformed into the hottest new club in town — full of sexy
    singles, hip urban professionals, and exotic devotees of the club
    scene. CLUB DIVA, DIVA MN’s 17th annual fundraiser
    for AIDS/HIV programs, benefits the nonprofit organization’s purposes
    and needs.

    Saturday from 5:30 p.m. to 2 a.m., International Market Square, 275 Market St., Minneapolis; 612-338-6250; tickets start at $40 and go as high as you like.

    ART
    John Ratzloff Turns His Lens on the Anishinabe

    For almost twenty years, the bulk of photographer John Ratzloff’s work has been with the Anishinabe at the White Earth reservation in northwest Minnesota. His current exhibit, White Earth, A Portrait, serves as a great introduction to his work; but this weekend is its last, so be sure to catch it. According to Ratzloff, as both an activist and an artist, he doesn’t set out to capture an image; his photographs are "moments shared" — more about relationships than history.

    Friday and Saturday from noon to 5 p.m., Bockley Gallery, 2123 W. 21st St., Minneaplis; 612-377-4669.

    WINE & DINE
    Nantaimori
    We’ve been hearing about naked sushi for the past month, and the time has finally come. On Saturday, Temple Restaurant will host a Nyotaimori/Nantaimori Event. That’s right — naked sushi. But don’t worry, you won’t have to take your clothes off (unless you want to, of course). Nyotaimori and Nantaimori are Japanese traditions of serving sashimi and sushi off of the body of a woman or a man. Sounds pretty good to me, however dubious. I just hope chef and owner Thom Pham cleans his serving platters as well as he cleans his vegetables.

    Saturday at 7:30-10:30 p.m., Temple Restaurant and Shinto Lounge, 1201 Harmon Place, Minneapolis; 612-767-3770; $75 (includes sushi, sake, and champagne).

  • Roots and Grooves

    MUSIC

    Maceo Parker

    One of the last things you expect out of Maceo Parker
    is a new wrinkle, and that’s OK: As the saxophonist for the Godfather
    of Soul, he’s the man who blew the horn that popped the sweat out of
    James Brown’s pores. He went on to play with two of Brown’s most
    renowned heirs to the funk tradition, Parliament/Funkadelic and Prince.
    New tricks aren’t normally a priority for an old-timer who still
    slathers the fatback this well—even after turning sixty-five on
    Valentine’s Day. But then Parker starts to croon on his new disc, Roots and Grooves,
    and he turns out to be the best Ray Charles doppelganger since Brother
    Ray shed this mortal coil four years ago. The ballad “Georgia,” the
    sprightly “Hit The Road Jack,” and the funk workout “What’d I Say” are
    all daringly faithful tributes that don’t embarrass Parker vocally. But
    if you’re worried he’ll abandon that big tenor sax sound, a 17:48
    version of “Pass The Peas” on Roots and Grooves will lay it to rest. Expect to hear both the voice and the horn at the Dakota. —Britt Robson

    7 and 9:30 p.m., Dakota Jazz Club and Restaurant, 1010 Nicollet Ave., Minneapolis; 612-332-1010; $50, $35.

    Sierra Leone’s Refugee All Stars

    There’s no denying the power of music— whether to protect and celebrate a culture, to decry an injustice, to heal a heart, or to soothe a crying child. Music has served us all well. But the Sierra Leone’s Refugee All Stars have taken this to a whole new realm. Ravaged and exiled by civil war — having suffered both physical and emotional trauma — the All Stars have used their music, not just as a means of survival, but to share their stories, their struggles, and their strength. Join them tonight at the Guthrie for an energizing performance of traditional West African music, roots reggae, and rhythmic traditional folk. And be sure to check out this documentary about the band.

    7:30 p.m., McGuire Proscenium Stage, Guthrie Theater, 818 S. 2nd St., Minneapolis; 612-377-2224; $18-$20.

    FILM
    Minneapolis Jewish Film Festival

    The Minneapolis Jewish Film Festival started a couple of days ago, and you have a week’s worth of films to choose from, so be sure to check the schedule. Tonight, I suggest you head to the Oak Street for two great films, one of which is even a Minnesota premiere. Frozen Days (Yamim Kfu’eem), directed by Danny Lerner, tells the story of young homeless woman who sets out to meet an internet chat room buddy, and ends up taking her identity. The Bubble (Ha Buah) tells the story of three hipsters sharing an apartment in Tel Avis and trying to change the world amid a stream of violence. You may be surprised by the hipness of these tales, and you’ll surely be shocked by the violence.

    7 and 9 p.m., respectively, Oak Street Cinema, 309 Oak St. S.E., Minneapolis; 612-331-3134.

  • Another One from the Mothballs: The Art of Indexing

    I always thought it would be interesting to attempt to tell the story of
    your life purely in index form. I tried it once, without a whole lot of
    success. I’m sure there are others out there like me, though, people for whom
    the indexes of thick biographies are often better and more fascinating reading than
    the books themselves.

    I was obsessed with indexing for a time. I acquired and pored over
    scores of books on the subject (H.B. Wheatley’s How to Make an Index from
    1902, A.L. Clarke’s Manual of Practical Indexing from 1905, Robert L.
    Collison’s Indexes and Indexing from 1959, among others). I even paid way too much money to acquire a copy of Der Index der Verbotenen Bucher (1899),
    which was in a language I do not read, and appears to have no practical bearing
    on my own interest in the subject. The great indexers are legendary obsessives.
    In 1848 a man named William F. Poole published a book called An
    Alphabetical Index to Subjects Treated in Reviews and Other Periodicals to
    Which No Indexes Have Been Published.

    In his more recent Explorations in Indexing and Abstracting, Brian
    C. O’Connor poses the single most relevant question regarding the indexer’s
    art: "Can we design systems that detect the treasure for each
    user?" Perusing indexes it’s clear that every indexer worth his or
    her salt brings to this question a deeply personal set of priorities and
    proclivities. Check it out some time; it’s fascinating to see what sorts
    of bizarre minutiae an indexer will choose to extract from a book’s tangle
    of detail and incident.

    I’ve been collecting these minutiae for years. Here’s just a small sampling
    (and I would, of course, welcome any interesting contributions you might have
    stumbled across):

    From Margaret Drabble’s Angus Wilson: A Biography:

    Fear of falling, 556, 592;
    tendency to fall, 599,
    601;     lack of sense of balance,
    603, 604;     serious fall,
    623-4;     in nursing home,
    642-3.

     

    From Gerald Clarke’s Capote: A Biography:

    Dancing of, 58, 101, 102; eavesdropping and snooping of, 180-81,
    206-7, 294;     as love life advisor,
    166, 168;     sleepwalking of,
    44;     Montalban, Ricardo,
    298.

     

    From Donald Spoto’s The Dark Side of Genius: The
    Life Of Alfred Hitchcock:

    Gastronomic Life: potatoes,
    14;     three-steak meal, 187; gulping, 412; Personal Life, Habits,
    Attitudes, and Traits:     mustache,
    95;     woman in the back of a taxi,
    162, 374, 432, 433, 531;     destruction
    of crockery, 187, 192;     interest
    in strangling, 353, 527;     spiritual
    transvestism, 432-33.

     

    From William Manchester’s Winston Churchill biography, The
    Last Lion    :

    Silk underwear for skin sensitivity, 399; national crisis while bathing, 418-19; attitude while playing polo, 241-42; skin donation to wounded soldier with Kitchener,
    283;     bricklaying, 776,
    883.

     

    From John Baxter’s Bunuel:

    Death, fascination with,
    15, 24;     menagerie, 14; obsessive punctuality, 183; orgies, participation in, 116-17; phone, hating, 295; pistols, fascination with, 202-3.

     

    From David Sweetman’s Van Gogh: His Life and His Art:

    Tooth trouble, 203, 262; wears candles in hat, 278; throws glass at Gauguin, 289; razor attack on Gauguin, 290, 306; kicks attendant, 307.

     

    From Steven Naifeh and Gregory White Smith’s Jackson
    Pollock: An American Saga    :

    Beguiling smile of,
    2, 4, 94, 808;     dimples of,
    2-3, 44, 161, 808;     drunken binges
    of    , 2-3, 6, 7, 117, 120, 168, 170, 197, 212-14, 247-48, 249-50, 255,
    266-67, 294-95, 296-98, 302, 306, 310-11, 314, 335-36, 359-60, 448, 449, 491,
    572, 669-71, 686, 844;     fights
    provoked by    , 6, 140-41, 145, 204, 212, 228, 247-48, 265, 267, 297,
    302, 310, 350, 481, 488-89, 498, 570, 572, 715, 755, 900;     mouth harp played by, 208, 220, 247, 833,
    834;     urinary habits of,
    50-51, 469, 478, 489, 541, 612, 671, 753, 760, 762, 770, 788, 813, 818, 867,
    876, 904;     weeping of,
    249, 297, 581, 740, 763, 770, 778, 782, 787, 901, 904;     Ives, Burl, 170, 828.

     

    From Mary Tyler Moore’s After All:

    Richie’s rescued pigeon,
    208-210;     assassination threats,
    269-71;     Blue Chip stamp collecting,
    382-83;     crossword puzzles,
    383;     Gomer Pyle, 113; hitting bottom, 349-50; mother’s addiction to pinball machines,
    12-13;     as inept liar,
    279-82;     O’Neill, Tip,
    280, 281;     Kershaw, Doug,
    236;     Busey, Gary, 207.

  • Married Life: Frustrating, Sort of Like Marriage

    Anachronistic is the best word to describe Married Life, which will be arriving at Landmark’s Edina Cinema on March 21st. The film’s frustratingly whimsical tone washes out its better, darker moments, leaving little to say about marriage.

    Based on the 1953 pulp mystery novel Five Roundabouts to Heaven,
    the film follows the relationships and ethical dilemmas presented by a
    man and his wife, a man and his mistress, a wife and her lover, and the
    rakish friend that likes the mistress. The sum of those four parts is
    supposed to be some sort of conversation about marriage, but it never
    really emerges from its pulp mystery origins. What does emerge is a
    story you’ve seen before: Man decides to kill wife to be with
    mistress. I kept waiting for the movie to offer up something new, a new
    breath of life into a tired story, but ultimately it falls short.

    The problem is rooted in the source material. Commenting on the
    reason he chose the story, writer/ producer/ director Ira Sachs
    explains, “I wanted to make a film that spoke gently and honestly about
    the complexities and intricacies of marriage and intimate life, and
    here was a plot—however outrageous it might seem—that in the end could
    do so in a way both direct and metaphoric.” Unfortunately the direction
    Mr. Sachs takes with the story, a split between whimsical and serious,
    is neither complex nor intricate, making it difficult to take the film
    seriously.

    Mr. Sacks also thinks you’re an idiot. There is a constant, droning
    voice-over during the entire movie, and the characters are shallow and
    poorly developed. With only the slightest provocation they spout off
    their entire life stories, discussing relationships and feelings with
    the clumsy hands of the screen writer pulling the strings in abrupt,
    jerky motions.

    The uncommonly talented cast does a lot to calm the uneven
    writing. Chris Cooper, the pain and disillusionment fused into every
    pore, delivers the sort of nuanced performance that we’ve come to
    expect from him. Rachel McAdams is similarly able to shock a semblance
    of life into Kay, the thinly written object of affection for both
    leading men.

    The acting makes the darker moments of the film resonate, but it
    hits so many bad notes with its thin plot and whimsical execution that
    it’s difficult to take seriously. Ultimately the film neither chills,
    nor comments on marriage at all, but simply wilts away in mediocrity.

  • The Tao of Puerh

    I’ve been hanging out lately at a great little place called Fireroast Mountain Cafe, which besides having wonderful soups, sandwiches, and pastries, serves a perfectly brewed cup of Puerh, which is a rare and wonderful thing.

    A fermented tea that contains microbes — like yogurt of kefir —Puerh has an earthy, amber, slightly caramel flavor. Perfect with a touch of honey. And according to experts going back to the Eastern Han Dynasty, it offers a myriad of health benefits, too. Puerh is said to cleanse the blood and aid in digestion, lowering LDL cholesterol, canceling out the effects of alcohol, and boosting the metabolism. Some people even claim it helps them feel better immediately after a heavy, greasy meal, acting as both fat blocker and antacid.

    I have no idea if any of this is true. What I do know is that Puerh makes me feel good, and it’s rich enough to be a decent substitute for that cup of espresso I crave around 2 o’clock every afternoon.

    The key to making this and other varieties of tea, however, is to get the water temperature and ratio of leaves just right. Black tea, for instance, should be made with water that’s just off the boil and steeped for five minutes; green with water that’s about 10 degrees cooler — e.g. the stuff that comes out of those red-spigoted hot water taps — and steeped for no more than three.

    Puerh, on the other hand, cannot be overcooked. You make it with water that’s at a roiling boil and let it steep forever. . . .10 minutes or so. The key is to use only a teaspoon of leaves, or it can become overpoweringly thick.

    I’ve looked for this tea on the shelves of every grocery store I’ve visited for the past month, but it’s simply not available. Lunds carries everything from infused green to Indian chai to maté, but there is, apparently, only a very small retail market for Puerh. The only place in town I’ve found to buy it in bulk is Tea Source.

    I’m generally unimpressed by the studies touting the health benefits of various foods. But evidence that goes back 2,200 years will tend to sway me. And just to test the veracity of the claims, I recently consumed a large and meaty meal, then drank a cup of carefully prepared Puerh. And while I doubt it completely eliminated the roasted pork, brie, dark chocolate, and heavy cream from my system, I must say, I went to bed feeling amazingly good.

    Those ancient Chinese emperors? I think they were onto something.