Mellow day yesterday.

I'd been planning to sort books but we couldn't figure out timing what with our evening plans. By the time I started thinking about how to spend my Sunday, it was almost midday and I'd have to get back here before 5 p.m. ... and was it worth the going and returning ... so we just continued on doing what we were doing: we hung out, French toast for breakfast, Sunday papers, picked up the figs dropped on the walking path, sat out on the wall talking with the downstairs neighbors about the roofers and repair projects, read, watered, the usual.

We left about 5 p.m., walked down to Washington Square Park and took the 30 to Market and then the 71 up Haight to Divisadero. 6 p.m. reservation at Le Metro Cafe (Divisadero and Page) and we were only five minutes or so late. The guy seating us said, "You've been here before, haven't you?"

"Yes, we had a long conversation about Nepal."

"Oh. Yes. I remember. I have news then for you. Tonight is our last night serving French food. After tonight we will close for remodeling and reopen serving Nepalese food. Small plates. The plates will be $10 or less."

"Exciting times," we said.

So we chatted about the change and how long the restaurant would be closed ("Two weeks, we hope..." We all laughed ... "Well, good luck with that," we said.) and what the new restaurant would be called ("Kathmandu").

I mentioned that my nephew had just got back from a trip to Kathmandu and Maratika and other places. (He'd spent most of his time with Rinpoche. After he got back, he sent us a very entertaining travelogue about his trip adventures with scenery shots and a shot of him with Rinpoche and street scenes and photographs of the ubiquitous Kathmandu monkeys and roosters and other folk.)

Most of the diners last night were neighbors, stopping in for a last Sunday night meal before the restaurant closed for a bit. We had a nice dinner, which I won't detail mouthful by mouthful because the next time we're there the food will be entirely different. Suffice to say, the meal was tasty. He brought us each a glass of port to go with dessert. Must've had some in the back and I suppose they won't be pouring much port in a Nepalese restaurant, but what do I know?

We finished dinner about 7:30 p.m. and walked a few blocks north and across the street to the Independent (Divisadero & Hayes) for the show, and an entertaining show it was, after some initial confusion with "doors open 7:30 p.m." on the tickets and "doors open 8:30 p.m." on the Web site ...

Opening act was Red Meat, a really good honky tonk band that started out in the Mission District going on fourteen years ago now. Red Meat has a new album due out next month. I plan to get one.

The lead act was Johnny Cash's Legendary Tennessee Three. Amazing voice the lead singer, Bob Wootton, has. The remaining two of the Tennessee Three -- guitarist Bob Wootton on vocals and the legendary (really) WS Holland on drums -- are joined by Vicky Wootton (vocals and rhythm guitar)(Bob's wife), Scarlett Wootton (guitar and vocals)(Bob's daughter. Scarlett sang a couple solo tunes and has a solo CD coming out momentarily) and Lisa Horngren (upright bass). Wootton joined the Tennessee Three back in 1968 soon after original lead guitarist Luther Perkins died in a house fire.

Last night's show opened with "Folsom Prison" and closed with "Ring of Fire" and the band and the audience had a good time in between. We had an excellent time. We is just cultured people. I bought a CD. Had the guys sign it after the show.

A numskull next to us was dancing around making twirls and dips with a beer in his hand. I moved a little away from him. He spilt beer on the jacket of the guy sitting at the bar table in front of us. Guy took his jacket off the back of the chair and told the guy to back off. Guy with the beer kept dancing. Kept spilling beer. Guy at the bar table got up to do him bodily harm and security was there before the two connected. Calmed down the guy at the bar table. Told the dancing fool to cool it. And he did for a while and then he just couldn't not dance. Security kept him away from the guy at the bar table. The evening ended without a fight on the floor. (Did I mention the guy at the bar table was BIG and had TATTOOS and had been drinking beer and looked like he worked out with some serious weights? The dancing fool would've been pulverized before he knew that he'd dropped his beer. ...)

Waited for maybe fifteen minutes at the bus stop outside NOPA and caught the 21 back to Market and then the 45 back to Washington Square Park. Home again, home again, riggety jig.

The theater in the buses was the usual both coming and going. On the way out we had cross dressers griping because the Haight Street Fair was closing down at 5:30 and they weren't going to make it in time. Grousing along next to them was a grey, long-haired, paunchy biker type who didn't like the City shutting down street fairs early and curtailing alcohol ... What a buncha mean-spirited types the folks down at City Hall are, they all agreed.

Coming back things were quieter, a bit. No happy drunks like those we had coming back from dinner at our friends' place a week ago Friday. Seems last night we'd hit the sweet spot (12:30 a.m. or so) and the buses weren't very full and were relatively quiet. Tucked in soon after 1 a.m.

All in all a mellow day. Another Sunday.

Labels: clubs, food, life, San Francisco, SFMTA/Muni

   posted by Sal Towse at  11:07 AM|| |

We listened last night to Vienna Teng at the Independent, preceded by a delish dinner at NOPA.

VT's intro act was The Animators, well, Devon Copley and Alex Wong, a street-stripped-down version -- the essence -- of the band. Alex played some backup percussion and glockenspiel for VT. VT played some backup piano for the two. And a fun time was had by all. I liked them a lot. His nibs didn't much care for them. Oh. That's what makes God's little green-blue world, though.

VT was wonderful as always. Such a voice. His nibs much prefers her live performances to her CDs, which he thinks are over produced and layer too much production on top of her unique voice. I like her CDs. More differences of opinion. Both of us agree, though, that live, she is marvelous. She has her patter down and she's comfortable on stage. Hard to believe she is a reincarnated computer geek educated at Stanford, but there you have it.

She sang for over an hour, including CITY HALL and MISSION STREET, LULLABY FOR A STORMY NIGHT for her sister. She closed with an audience sing-along of SOON LOVE SOON and we all scattered out into the night with our souls intact.

She's playing again tonight. She'd sold enough of tonight's show that they added last night's show, and happy we were they did. The younger younger nib is arriving in from Boston tonight after 11p and we're picking him up at the airport. We couldn't have made a show tonight.

If VT's ever playing near you, get tickets.

We grabbed the 15 to Market Street and then the 21 Hayes up to Divisadero, getting there precisely at 6p (as was our plan) for a show with doors that opened at 8:30p for which we had will-call tickets. Why so early? Well, we'd been planning on dinner or at least something to eat beforehand. Last December, for a VT show at the I, we'd eaten at the Bean Bag Cafe, a small joint at the corner of Hayes and Divisadero.

This year, as we were poking around on the Web in the afternoon, we realized that there were several new restaurants in the neighborhood that hadn't been there last year.

A new restaurant NOPA, which has got some buzz, had opened in the empty building kitty-corner to the BBC, a building which had been vacant with windows covered with butcher paper last December when we were waiting for the bus home.

NOPA
560 Divisadero Street @ Hayes
San Francisco, CA 94117
Phone (415) 864-8643

Rather than make a reservation, we decided to show on their doorstep at 6p and see if we could get a table. If not, there were other places to try or the BBC.

NOPA's bar opens at 5p. Dining starts at 6p. NOPA has a communal dining table and bar dinner seating that are first-come, first-serve. If we couldn't grab a table, surely we could eat at the bar.

We showed at 6p and were told, yes, they had a table, but wouldn't be able to seat us for ten minutes or so. Fine. We watched while they set everyone up who had a 6p reservation and then around 6:15, they sat us mid-room at a table for 4. I'm not a mid-room sort of person, but a table for 4 means you aren't elbow to elbow with the person next to you so that was a plus.

Appetizers: (him) squash soup -- which turned out to be a beef-barley soup with bits of tasty squash rather than the ginger-squash whirl that so many do. Although it wasn't what we expected, it was tasty. (me) spinach salad with endive, slices of persimmon, walnuts, pomegranate seeds, a tasty bleu cheesy dressing. Delish.

Main: (him) pan roasted black cod on a lentil platform with chicory -- tasty (me) lamb, cooked medium rare. Sliced. Looked a bit like some restaurants' duck breast presentation. No bones. Drizzled with a mint/chopped garlic/onion/something sort of chimichurri sauce. Very tasty. Set on a bed of pureed celery root (cream and butter are such wondrous things). With a side of braised greens.

We had a bottle of pinot noir: ICI/LA-BAS pinot noir. 2002. Les Reveles. Ellee Valley.

Dessert: trio of sorbets: meyer lemon, blood orange, clementine. He was happy. I had a taste of each and a small glass of moscotel romano alicante (bodegas guitterez de la vega 2003) because they had no Bonny Doon vin glaciere. I like. Our charming waiter said he likes the moscatel but really likes the eiswein. Maybe next time.

See? Maybe next time already. Our meal was that good. Our wait staff was excellent. Always there. Happy to be there or a very good actor. Suggestions if you wanted. Not if you didn't.

The building is a transformed bank, with some other incarnations in between. High ceilings. Impressive support structures. We noticed the criss-cross beam bracing over the door for earthquake retrofit, which seemed appropriate after we felt the shake during the Vienna Teng performance.

The vibe is friendly. The food is good. The place got more and more packed as the evening wended on. We got out about 8p and walked across the street and up half a block to the Independent. I stood in the like ten people long line while his nibs picked up the tickets. Doors opened at 8:30p for a 9p show. By then the line was down the block and wrapped around the corner.

We got great seats at a club table for four. The couple sharing the table had been behind us in line. The club, which is "intimate," meaning small, filled up and then standing and then more standing. The mix was geezers like us and YUPs and gen-Xers and more Asians over the age of thirty than I'm used to seeing at a club. VT's brother and younger sister were in the audience, she said. I didn't see her mom and wouldn't've recognized the sister at all. According to VT, the younger sister's almost out of HS. When I knew her, she was probably four or five. Time moves on, doesn't it?

If you're headed to the Independent for a show and want a nice meal beforehand, showing up on NOPA's doorstep at 6p will get you to the show on time with absolutely no stress. If you decide to eat after the show, NOPA serves dinner until 1 a.m., and the place was hopping at midnight as we waited (far longer than the twenty minutes MUNI claims for that time of night, but hey...) for a 21 back downtown.

Caught a 30 back to Washington Square Park and then walked home. The driver was a bit of a poophead. His nibs had pulled the STOP cord as we turned from Stockton onto Columbus. He yanked it again/again when it was clear the driver wasn't stopping at the Park. The driver stopped mid street and said, "Next time, pull the cord sooner if you want me to stop."

Huh? His nibs had pulled the cord like two blocks thataway back there! The driver must've been tired or having a hard night. He couldn't damper my mood, though.

Nice, nice evening.

Labels: clubs, food, music

   posted by Sal Towse at  9:30 AM|| |