Eyes Will Roll

I went to see an off-off-off-OFF Broadway show called Frogs at the Fault Line Theater on 4th Ave. between 2nd Ave. and Bowery a few nights ago.  The comedy is by Aristophanes and oh my goodness, I'm too stoopid for these Greek plays.  It was way too corny for me and spoiler alert, it wasn't about amphibians at all.   

The only thing that left me laughing all night was the almost transparent groin area of the men dressed in frog-green spandex suits.  I have pictures of it but posting it would be distasteful. 

The Goddess

So, I just got home from my pole dancing class and I'm sore all over, it's not even funny.  It's been years since I've done stretching and my legs are jello.  But!  But I loved it. 

The studio is located in Chelsea on 23rd St and the room was dark, seductive and intimate.  Channeling my inner goddess was even funnier and took a lot more concentration for me than any of the other girls.  Twirling on a pole was harder than I thought. 

The class of 8 girls and one instructor started out with warm-ups, stretching, rotation of every part of the body with emphasis on the hips, all the while being encouraged to touch our bodies like...  Hold up, my dad reads this blog.  Anyway, I did my climb and spin and that's all there is to it.  Awesome.

Follies at the Marquis

Tell me, how could I leave when I left long ago?

I went to see Follies at the Marquis Theater.  I've always known I don't know shit about critiquing musicals since I don't really know the technicalities, the songs and it was all I could do to keep up with the storyline.  My co-workers were asking me how I liked it, all I could say was that I loved it, which wasn't exactly true.  I read up on this particular show before I went to see it but I'd much rather see joyful, funny musicals.

It's a story about two couples undergoing some mid-life crises, regrets, past loves, past lives, past glamour.  It was a heartrending seeing older people on stage wistfully reminiscing about their past lives as Weissman showgirls.  As usual, I'll only mention my favorite musical number.

My favorite was Phyllis' (gorgeously played by Jan Maxwell) number "Could I Leave You?" where she and Ben confronted each other about divorce.  All the while I was thinking, "Exactly!"  I've been through signing out, zoning out, mentally and emotionally preparing myself to leave, days spent in different parts of the room, ignoring each other, not seeing each other.  The torture of a passionless and comfortable relationship is like bleeding to death by paper cuts.

The Joshua Tree

I've always laughed at people pretending to know the lyrics to a song.  They look like actors in a Mexican telenovela being dubbed in Filipino.  Is it that bad not to know the words to Where the Streets Have No Name and to just bob your head to the music without mouthing random words?  

I went to the U2 360° Tour at the New Meadowlands Stadium last night.  It was absolute hell getting there for the 95,000 people who wanted to see those four, somewhat oldish Irish guys, the alienic structure The Claw and reminisce about their own rock and roll past. 

 

Penn Station in Manhattan had signs that read, "If you're going to the U2 concert, line up here."  It was World Youth Day 1995 for me all over again.  I kept wishing for Platform 9 3/4 so I could just disappear and get away from these already drunk U2 fans.  

I was never really into U2 while growing up and not surprisingly, I didn't see a lot of Filipinos there and not much black people either.  Why I noticed that, I don't know.  I didn't know any of the songs in the concert except Elevation and With or Without You.

Of course, my favorite part was when Arizona Congresswoman, Gabrielle Giffords' hubby, Mark Kelly, appeared on the huge screen with a message from space, an awesome segue to "Beautiful Day".  Gabby Giffords was shot in the head earlier in Arizona.

What time is it in the world?  Showtime!

Quenelle de Brochet Lyonnaise

I've been craving for this very Pinoy street food every since I got here and the Filipino restaurants that I go to don't offer it.  Imagine my surprise when I found it in the snooty French restaurant on Fifth Avenue called La Grenouille.  

We started out with some cold and creamy pea soup that's about 3 teaspoonfuls.  In my Third World upbringing, soup was always steaming hot, comforting and overflowing on a stormy night in July.  I felt haughty French eyes on me, just waiting for me to use a dessert spoon on my minuscule soup bowl.  So I flashed out my mint green Canon and took pictures of every plate they served me.  I've got plenty of Filipino haughtiness to  share too.

The agnolotti with spinach, peas and parsley was amazing.  Agnolotti, I had to ask Monsieur capitaine, is a type of pasta much like ravioli.  I used to sincerely hate peas but I loved it served like this.  It tasted very much like the Japanese sweet corn my parents used to buy from Manong Mais at Ateneo.

Then came the entree, La Quenelle de Brochet Lyonnaise.  It tickled me to high heavens when I discovered what quenelles meant in plain, straightforward English.  Fish balls!!!

To a Filipina who likes her street food grilled or fried to a crisp, this tasted like any uncooked fish ball or squid ball sans the sweet and sour dipping sauce.  In its place, however, was a really good cream sauce.  Then again, this wasn't just any Quiapo side street.  This was also my first time to try une quenelle and like everything French, it will take a little getting used to.  Too bad they didn't offer escargots, I used to consume snails cooked in coconut milk with my father like nobody's business.

So finally, the third and my favorite course, dessert.  I ordered the Floating Island.  I forgot what was in it but the sauce was creamy, sweet heaven; the golden threads on top were caramelized sugar and the two round things in the middle resembling quenelles were meringue-like concoctions that were interestingly good with the first several bites but got too much after that.

 My friend chose an apricot and pistachio sorbet creation.  Of course I didn't like it.  Apricots are much too tart for my taste.

 

I'm thinking my parents would really appreciate this nice place if only for the ambiance and the resplendent flower arrangements in every corner.  I'm not sure French cuisine mashes well with Filipino palates but it's always worth a try.  Prix fixe pre-theater three-course dinner is $60 per person.

Fly Away on My Zephyr

How romantic would it be to travel cross-country on a scenic train ride?  I have just read a piece on the NY Times about traveling by train from Chicago to San Francisco on board the California Zephyr.  Jeez, even the name is romantic.  How often do I use the word zephyr?  Uh, only when I'm singing Red Hot Chili Peppers.

In my excitement about 3 months of an East Coast summer, I've never planned an actual getaway that would require me to be away for more than two days.  I've mentioned "train-ing" to my favorite travel companion and he would like to try it himself.

Parallels: Flower Markets

It was one of those Sundays when I was itching to buy myself flowers, harry potted or otherwise.  The heavy rains didn't stop me from going to the Flower District on W 28th St. between Avenue of the Americas and 7th Avenue.  

This reminded me of Dangwa in Sampaloc, Manila where I used to pass by everyday when I was in college because the university was one block away.  Needless to say by Lady Cheapskate, Dangwa was still so much cheaper and the flowers were more in abundance, overflowing in the streets that it was impossible to walk around during the holidays.

The visuals just left me in awe.  Rows and rows of potted or cut hydrangeas, sweet peas, daisies, orchids, tulips and other humongous ferny things.  Some were silk flowers but you wouldn't know the difference just by looking at them.

Wouldn't it be nice to visit all the flower markets in the world?  Hmm, lovely, lovely thought.  Better than visiting the Chinatown of every city you visit, even in Beijing or Shanghai.