The NY Chronicles: How to Spend a Saturday

Friday night featured beer, Disney singalongs, barhopping on Bleecker Street, vodka cranberries seriously lacking in the cranberry department, some old black guy channeling Jimi Hendrix onstage, promises of mountains of coke, passed-out sisters on the subway and far too many comments claiming i look like Lady Gaga. 

Which is why today has been spent in front of the TV watching crappy movies, eating pizza, drinking beer and emptying a gigantic bag of peppermint patties. This is the life.

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.

Arcade Fire

Monday, June 28th. The midsummer stupor and deserted streets of Helsinki just a couple of days ago seem to have never happened, as a steady stream of flannel-shirted, bespectacled hipster-types fills Senaatintori. Between the shining whiteness of the monumental Tuomiokirkko and the stage that seems to have appeared out of nowhere in the space of a day, the stone steps are a-buzzing with the lucky folk who have decided to dish out 50 euros for the privilege of seeing Arcade Fire perform outside Helsinki Cathedral.

It's late in the afternoon, and it's hot outside. We get to the square when the line to the fenced-off concert area is still small. Seeing waving friends in the crowd, we secure seats next to them. The view is good, the weather is good, the people are good. It's really quite exciting, seeing as this is the first high-profile, admission fee-charging gig in this particular central Helsinki public space. 

The supporting act, Micachu and the Shapes, start their set right on time. Based on checking these kids out on MySpace, i'm looking forward to seeing them live. Their set gets off to a sticky start; in addition to their music being eccentrically quirky, their stage presence and verbal output is a little awkward. The biggest applause they draw from the audience is when frontman Micachu talks about what a great band Arcade Fire is. Hell, it's a big band to support and a big stage for three to fill. "They're stoned out of their minds", a friend observantly remarks. Be that as it may, the audience gradually warms up to the band, and i find myself quite diggin' this eccentric live act.

But then the main act comes on. The seven piece group fill the stage. The screen lights up. The light show commences. They start off by addressing the audience: "Please stand up." Everyone does. Win's voice fills the square. I'm willing to wager this is closer to religious fervor than what is experienced inside the white walls of the building we've got our backs turned to. 

These guys have three drum sets, they do laps around the stage, play a xylophone with the fierceness of the Phantom of the Opera playing the organ, switch instruments among themselves and say stuff like "Pickled herring. Hate it. But in your country i like it." They also play with an energy the likes of which i haven't seen in a while at a concert this size, while still managing to maintain the intimate feeling of a smaller gig. Their musical talent extends to a broad scope in terms of genre, instruments, lyrics and stage presence. I'm overwhelmed and more than pleasantly surprised to have all my expectations exceeded by the show they put on.

The only thing that caused me grief was that i didn't push into the front row with a couple of my lucky friends. Which really was unfortunate, because when Win jumped into the crowd after the gig, they got to touch him. I had to content myself with touching my friends. Arcade Fire, this nation of architects loves you.