The NY Chronicles: Food at Sacred Chow & Music at Cake Shop

It was Wednesday night in a sweltering city. Three women made their way to a vegan bistro called Sacred Chow. The place is tiny and easy to miss in the mix of little cafes and bars  Sullivan Street is full of. Since none of us had been there before, we walked right past it in a state of heat-induced stupor. We backtrack, find the place, sit down and order a pitcher of Sangria. Things are looking up.
 

The restaurant is entirely vegan and the menu is packed with all sorts of  veggie delights. I'm drooling. You sure as hell wouldn't come across something like Korean tofu cutlets on a menu in a restaurant back at home. I'm thinking, Helsinki, you need to get with it.

We go for some tapas: Mama's Soy Meatballs with Sicilian Sauce, Sun Dried Tomato Risotto, White Beans and Fried Potatoes, Cornbread with Sweet Potato Tempeh. The food arrives; everything looks good in home-cooked kinda way. The meatballs are lovely, the tomato sauce has a nice kick to it. And this cornbread, i love it. Warm, crumbly, almost too sweet to be bread and seriously moreish. Also, it's delicious with the whole sweet potato and tempeh combo.

We're absolutely stuffed after our entrees, but take a look at the dessert menu in any case. It features a Brownie Sundae. We can't resist. The vegan chocolate brownie comes with hot fudge sauce, vanilla ice cream and sprinkles. I lick my spoon and wonder whether i can discreetly unbutton my jeans.

We enter the muggy night once more and head to the Cake Shop on Ludlow Street, which features live music pretty much every night. 

True to its name, the place does some pretty nice-looking cake, has a pretty big collection of vinyls for sale, and doubles as a gig venue. The street level cafe is all decked out in thrift store furniture and the walls are papered in what seem to be 80s fashion ads.The downstairs live music venue is small, dark and features a bar lit up by lamps with tasseled silk shades that look like they've been stolen from my granny. A little stage decked out in fairy lights takes up one end of the small space. It's got that slightly manky, yet lovable vibe, like Lepakkomies or Semifinal. I'm liking it.

The night's lineup is four local bands we've never heard of, but look forward to checking out nonetheless. The first band is called The Crawl Babies. The three-man band plays some rather generic indie stuff and the dudes look like the poster boys of hipsterishness. Their Myspace site claims they're from Osaka and Kyoto and features pics of Japanese folk to support the claim. We think this is part of their cunning branding scheme. The drummer plays his instrument standing up and never once looks at the audience. There's something irritating about the singer's voice and his spasmodic twitching on stage. But i've always been one to appreciate a little self irony, whether it's intentional or not. 

The third band is called My Pet Ghost Project. They describe themselves as a sonic wrecking crew, which is quite accurate. Their music is cinematic, moody and songs build up to a rolling climax, courtesy of synths, serious drumming and the talented playing of the  guitarists. For the most part, this is instrumental, gigantic stuff lacking in vocals and making up for it in terms of ambiance.

The music wasn't the only intriguing part of the night, either. Because i enjoy taking pics of toilets, i couldn't leave this out. Some serious cool graffiti and stickers on the walls of the Cake Shop restrooms. Also, this may or may not have been the guys' toilet. Why do i think that? Perhaps the pic below was a clue. Shitballs.

The NY Chronicles: Williamsburg is Burning.

At the beginning of July, yours truly packed her bags, put her last pennies towards a plane ticket and fled to the sparkling, shiny city of New York. A month of exploration, adventure and decadence awaits. At least up until the money runs out. How did this crazy expedition come about? It all started when my lovely Manhattan-based friend Jenny sent me a message on Facebook, the subject of which was "Just to tempt you..". Her roommate was gonna go abroad for a month, thereby leaving her room in their lovely Harlem apartment vacant. Hell yes, is what i said. And to make a long story short - here i am, sitting in a New York apartment in the middle of a heatwave eating frozen yogurt and appreciating air conditioning like i've never appreciated it before.

Saying it's hot here is starting to seem like the understatement of the century. It's not just hot, it's wandering-in-the-desert-seeing-garden-gnomes, sweat-shooting-out-from-your-armpits-like-you're-the-man-from-the-Axe-ad, offensively-slap-you-in-the-face-with-a-reeking-hot-fish kind of hot. 

Despite this hotness, we decided to set out to Brooklyn and do some exploring in Williamsburg. As walking in the heat was rather painful and the going was slow, we stayed mostly on Bedford Street, making sure to keep ourselves properly hydrated (as one should, when one goes exploring and adventuring). 

We stopped by a couple of Vintage Shops, which are plentiful and very decently priced, like the one in the pic above, called Vice Versa. Toying with the idea of getting a Hawaii-print skirt from the seriously hideous 70s and a mallard-print shirt from the wardrobe of facepalm clothing-failures was probably influenced by the heat. In the end, better judgment dictated that the clothes in question would remain in the store, perhaps for some theme-party occasion or next hipster trend. What i did grab with, though, was a pair of black converse trainers for a whopping five dollars. 

Having done some shopping, we decide it's time for food, and decide to sample some serious fusion cuisine at Dokebi Bar & Grill.

The place is air conditioned, the interior is a nice mix of Asian eatery meets American diner, and what's best is, it's happy hour. I go for a spicy mushroom burrito, which is an interesting mix of Asian greens, beans, and mushrooms in a Korean BBQ sauce, served in a corn tortilla. It's good, it's filling, and at 7 dollars, it's a good deal. 

After food and a couple of cold beers, we brave the heat and head out. We don't get too far, cause we spot the nice rooftop terrace of Juliette's Bistro, and decide we've come far enough, and it's time for a drink. 

Cocktails are the way to go. My cocktail of choice - the Guillotine - is heavy on the rum, which seems appropriate for this tropical climate we're enjoying. Also, rather than hydrating us, this alcohol-drinking is doing the opposite. I think i see a garden gnome scampering across the terrace from the corner of my eye. We agree it might be time to head home.

All in all, despite the sweltering heat, we agree it's been a fine day of exploring. I resolve to come back to Williamsburg, preferably on a day when the temperature isn't in the triple digits and the garden gnomes aren't on the move.

One Night in Tampere.

Last Friday, three in the afternoon. I leave work, jet home. I throw stuff into a bag, grab a toothbrush and scamper by Subway for something to eat. I get into the car, slam the doors shut and head to Kallio. By four i'm in Kallio, waiting for my media-making colleague and the camera equipment he's brining. At 16.10 he gets into the car and tells me we have a a bit of a hitch when it comes to the gear. It's a little broken. It's okay, we're not running that late yet, we can swing by to get another camera. Agreed, we jet to Punavuori, where we get hitch-free equipment. At 17.35 we're ready to head off. Only 35 minutes behind schedule. This is where the weekend starts. Tampere, here we come. 

19.00, more or less. We find ourselves in Pispala, outside Vastavirta-klubi. On time, with functioning equipment. We meet up with Jenni, our camera woman for the night. The night is looking good, there's a four band lineup of punk. Inside, we have a pint and discuss strategy. We're here to interview Tampere-based garage duo, Jaakko & Jay (#3 of tonight's lineup), as well as the owners of the club that's fast becoming a legend. 

I like this club, and wonder why i've never been here before. It's a good kind of dodgy, like Lepakkomies or Semifinal. The kind that makes you feel at home. Plus there's a foosball table with sticky handles. The dudes from the band sit down to eat (apparently the veggie food used to be better, but is still not bad). We play some foosball after (and at this point my delusions of greatness at said sport shatter), as i'm told that foosball (or Kicker, as it's called here) is taken very seriously, with regular grand tournaments, t-shirts and the like. 

Jaakko and Olli (a.k.a Jay) are more laid-back than a bus-full of stoned hippies. And good-humored too, not to mention polite. They offer incessant social commentary bordering on standup comedy. And it's obvious that they do what they do cause they love doing it. We're happy with the interview (having managed to include a question on shoes that are too small to fit big feet). They head off to do their sound check, we head off to hound down one of the owners of the club. 

We find Piitse and ask him to sing Vastavirta's praise. He's quiet for a while, shrugging, and concludes finally that it must be the good music that draws in the crowds. This is also a man who's clearly where he wants to be. I'll wager Vastavirta lacks a polished branding strategy (actually i'll wager it lacks polished anything), as well as intentions of expanding outside the borders of Tampere (like Ruma, the other Tampere native that appeared in Helsinki one day). Piitse confirms this is not where they're going. They're happy here, doing what they do. And they do it well. 

So do Jaakko and Jay. As always. The energy emanating from these guys on stage is like a sonar blast rattling your innards. Songs are punctuated by the intermission of their famous in-between commentary. They're ready to dispense with the police, assholes and most political parties. With giant smiles and sweat flying. The crowd goes crazy. The hand cam (and me with it) take a fall in the front row when a huge guy (who's seriously feeling the music) jumps backwards and lands on me. He pulls me back up, gives me a thumbs up and climbs on stage with the band. They don't mind at all.

The interviews will go up on soffa.tv as soon as we're done editing. Which will be soon, in any case.   

Trip in Pics.

i thought i'd put up some pictures from places the train took me. My route was as follows: Helsinki-->Turku-->Stockholm-->Copenhagen-->Hamburg-->Berlin-->Prague-->Chotilsko. And heading back: Chotilsko-->Prague-->Nurnberg-->Copenhagen-->Stockholm-->Turku-->Helsinki. Sat on lots of trains, slept in random places and ate a lot of falafel and too much potatoes. All in all a great trip.

The sky and sea looked pretty, viewed from the ferry between Denmark and Germany. Our train actually boarded the ferry, which was cool.

We got to Berlin at around midnight. A lot of empty buildings and squats in East Berlin. A lot of cool street art, too. This was a wall we passed on our way to Ostbahnhof the next morning.

Randomly spotted this on the sidewalk. Walked across where the wall stood. Can't believe it was there for more than a quarter of a century.

To take a break from conferencing, we went tree-walking in a forest valley in Chotilsko. I'd never heard of this before, but the idea is pretty simple: You get strapped into a harness, which is attached to cables that connect from tree to tree. Then you walk on planks of wood and tightropes in the forest canopy and try not to look down. It was ridiculously cool.

We also took a break from conferencing in terms of enjoying a little pre-breakfast swig of (ridiculously bad) absinthe that i picked up in Prague. There was enough conference reading to make a sturdy makeshift table for three glasses of the green stuff. Paper put to good use. 

A meal to remember. We went out to a restaurant one night. The (only) vegan option on the menu was 'Stewed vegetables and french fries'. While stewed vegetables didn't induce happy rumbling in my tummy, the idea of french fries sure did. Hells yeah, potato in a form i haven't yet encountered on this trip! A spirit-crushing experience it was, then, to see my starchy arch nemesis, the soggy, mushy, bland, yellow tater in its most mundane form. Be that as it  may, the potato still beat the other half of the dynamic duo; The stewed vegetables were the legume equivalent of mystery meat. Icky.

On the way home i had a couple of hours to spend in Prague before catching my train to Nurnberg. It was the first sunny day in a long while, so i got a Czech version of a pita falafel and walked around the old part of town and sat in the sunshine. And enjoyed it so much i almost missed my train.

Night train from Nurnberg to Copenhagen. Got the compartment all to myself. The lovely ticket inspector told me i could sleep in all six beds if i wanted to. I slept in one. (but first i watched the season finale of Carnivale and couldn't sleep cause i thought Professor Lodz was outside my window).

Breakfast in Copenhagen, which rocked after a long night on the train. What rocked more was having enough time to swing by Urban Outfitters and finding the coolest woolly hat. 
Said hat might have had something to do with the dude at the train station later throwing coins at me. Le hobo hat. I likes.

Homeward bound. With inspired thoughts, muddy shoes  and significantly less absinth than i started out with.

Notes from a Big Happening

Right now I’m sitting by a roaring fire in a wooden chair that Gandalf would sell his beard for, writing this as it gets darker and darker outside. On Sunday night we finally made it to Chotilsko at nine in the evening. After getting a bus from Prague to the worrisomely derelict looking bus stop in Chotilsko, we were picked up by the biggest camper van-driving longhaired hippie I’ve seen in a good while. About nine people and their backpacks piled into the van, and our tie-dye sporting chauffeur set off into the night. After driving for some time on crooked roads in the middle of the forest, we realize he's lost. All we see is mist in the beams cast by the van’s headlights. We turn around and head back, try a different turn. While neither his navigational prowess or automobile credentials evoke confidence, in my tired state I am rather amused by the realization that the journey is starting to play out like the horror movie I’ve been secretly scared it’ll turn into all along.

So it is to my surprise when after some more seemingly aimless driving in the dark, we arrive at our destination. In the darkness, you can’t really tell where you are. The outline of our hotel is visible against the night sky. Rather than resembling a mental asylum/Dracula’s castle/that house from Scream it looks like a ski chalet similar to the ones you’ll find in the Alps. Promising. The entrance hall is dominated by a big fireplace and wooden seats. The scent of food wafts in the air. People are talking happily. I breathe a sigh of relief. We sit down for a late dinner. In my booking form for this trip I had happily ticked the ‘vegan’ box when it came to food preference, and now found my supper consisting of eggplant laced with garlic, a slice of cucumber and fourteen potatoes (I counted). I head to bed, tired and in a potato coma.

The days are full of activity, from breakfast at eight in the morning to dinner at half past seven in the evening. The program so far has featured climate justice, plans for the Copenhagen climate conference and effective communication and activism strategies. When it comes to climate know-how this is the best of company; great people, good work and inspiring stuff are not lacking at this Big Happening. Neither is food. Lengthy discussions are followed by seminars, workshops and presentations, which are complemented by giant breakfasts, power lunches, cake and fruit breaks, two course dinners and bottomless mugs of tea. Before coming here I was worried the non-meat fare would be scarce. I was wrong, it’s plentiful. The kitchen peeps are keeping it vegan by replacing animal protein with a daily potato quota of 27 root vegetables per person. Fuel for more strategizing. Rock on, tubers.

Derailed and on the road.

I’m writing this on a train. Currently, I’m speeding from Copenhagen towards Hamburg. This morning I was in Stockholm. Last night I was in Turku. This evening I’ll be in Berlin, and tomorrow I’ll be in Prague. From Prague I’ll only be a hop and a skip from my final destination, Chotilsko, 50km south of Prague. Now what is so special about Chotilsko, you may wonder. Well, aside from being the potential setting of a new b-horror movie starring yours truly*, Chotilsko will play host to Friends of the Earth’s annual get together, The Big Happening. So in actual fact, I’ll be far from alone and hopefully equally far from meeting a miserable end at the maw of the wolfman/zombie/other fiend possibly residing in a small Czech village by a dam.

What I will be doing, more importantly, is meeting FOE-folk from all over Europe and strategizing on climate action, talking about Copenhagen, and working towards saving the world. Extracurricular activities might involve beer drinking, for the simple reasons of it being both good and cheap at our destination. I’m really looking forward to all of the above, in equal amounts.

But Chotilsko is still a couple of countries away, and I’m still in transit for a good many hours: Scenery changes, schedule checks, a cacophony of languages, train after train. There’s something great about getting on the rails, though. You can track the gradual changing of the view outside your window, and actually see how Sweden is different to Denmark, for example. You get to do cool things like have breakfast in Stockholm, lunch in Copenhagen and dinner in Hamburg. You have time to get through an entire book in one go. Or listen to all 168 songs currently on your iPod (I’m on 24 right now). The only thing that sucks is the lack of internet. Which is why I’m not sure if I’ll be able to post this tonight. Or if I’ll have this update online tomorrow. Or ever.

If the person reading this found my laptop somewhere with the rest of my dismembered limbs, a word of warning: run from the man with the hairy face.

* My friends seem to think that taking a train to the middle of nowhere and spending the week leading up to Halloween in the remnants of a village destroyed by the building of a huge dam, with no outsiders, no internet and limited phone network coverage, can only result in a gruesome end in which my various body parts are eventually sent home in separate packages, despite fierce garlic-wielding, ninja-chopping, silver bullet-firing attempts to save myself.

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Note from the Author: the above entry was written yesterday, and since finding an internet connection was impossible then, i'm posting it now from our hostel in Berlin. So my apologies for it coming online later than expected, but a cheer of joy to the fact that i'm still in possession of all my limbs. 

On another note, after getting a lucky six hours of sleep last night, we got up incredibly early to make it to breakfast this morning. Turns out clocks were pushed back last night, breakfast isn't served for another hour. Fail.