Coldplay: one band you won't find at Camino
One of my many oft-invoked rants revolves around the lack of worthy soundtracks in bars and restaurants. (A notable exception: the fine establishments run by power-couple Greg and Shelley Lindgren—anyone who’s tuned in at Rye, Rosewood, A16 or SPQR will surely agree). And while I usually restrict myself to the bar/nightlife realm, today I’m here to discuss the listening-while-dining side of things.
Symphonix, which held its Fall Fete at soon-to-open Local Kitchen and Wine Merchant, brought more than 350 members together to experience a Cal-Italian menu (by chef Ola Fendert of Oola and Chez Papa) and wine selection (compliments of sommelier Mark Bright of Restaurant Michael Mina).
A cocktail I created at the suggestion of Duggan McDonnell at Cantina (we just had to invent a cocktail that contained some form of sherry, and it had to be available on a drink menu somewhere), somehow made it to the finals of the National Sherry Cocktail Competition. And I got a return trip to duel with some of the country’s best.
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courtesy of Warner Brothers
Greetings and salutations* film nerds and nerdettes …
Ever had one of those sneaking late-night suspicions that (maybe, just maybe) the person lying in bed next to you snoring like a pig modem isn’t really human at all but rather a lethal android sent to Earth to destroy your soul? Would it be paranoid of me to say I have?
I saw on the news this morning that the East Coast got its first big snow storm today—and we’re still three weeks from the official start of winter. People were out en masse shoveling their driveways in the cold. What am I thankful for as the holidays approach? Our version of “cold” in SF is a dip below 50, not nearly chilly enough to keep me from heading out to all the festive sales, trunk shows and store openings popping up all over town. Here are a few you won’t want to miss, starting tonight:
What: Amy Torello Trunk Show
When: Monday, December 3, 7 p.m.
Where: 1661 Sacramento St., #4; 415-699-4188
I’m a huge cider fan, dating back to my teenage years and my first trip to Europe. It was with my parents, and I was about 15 years old. Going to Europe at that age with one’s parents was difficult enough. I was always trying to drift behind or bolt well ahead of the family unit so that no observers (especially the European teenage girls) would suspect that I was traveling under the auspices of parental units.
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