I found out, at the last minute as per usual, that the final performance of Harborwalk Sounds at the ICA was last night. I quickly diverted prior plans with J (sorry, Toro, we’ll be back) and took the other side of the silver line to the ICA. Harborwalk Sounds puts Berklee Jazz musicians on stage on the deck behind (in front of?) the ICA. We heard bassist and vocalist Katie Thiroux in a trio format with so far as I can tell uncredited horns and drums. They cooked, although I could tell that the harbor breeze was hard on their fingers.
It was windy and a bit chilly, at least it felt that way relative to recent weather, but I was out on a deck watching the sunset, so a cocktail was definitely in order. And Wolfgang Puck’s Water Cafe was looking tempting, so we ordered up the Kobe sliders and crabcakes with corn bisque.
The sliders were hot and fresh, at least until the wind got to them. A little cheese and mayo and some onion marmalade under the toasted bun helped make them stand out over the average little burger. The crabcakes came perches on top of tube-like shot glasses of corn bisque with drops of different oils. The bisque was tastier than the crabcakes, but the strange glassware made it hard to drink it. Dunking was impossible, too. I love small plates, but I guess it’s possible to be a little too precious.
Shivering lightly and listening to the music as the dusk turned to night, I thought about the imminent change of season. Plans for weekend canoeing are starting to seem ill-advised. It’s almost time to un-mothball the winter clothes, to switch from iced coffee to hot, from gin to vodka. The five or six perfect days of New England Autumn are on their way. I hope I don’t miss them.
This weekend I was hanging out at the Hudson Street Gallery in chinatown and popped in to Hing Shing Pastry for a snack. They were out of their delicious peanut butter buns, but they did have this peculiarly detailed pig-shaped item in an equally pig-shaped plastic container.
At $2.50, it was more expensive than anything I’ve ever bought at Hing Shing short of their moon cakes, so I figured there must be something exotic in there. Preliminary unboxing revealed that the pig is sitting on top of a plastic tray with a packet of silica gel beneath to keep it fresh.
The detail, from the beady eyes to the pinhole nostrils was quite impressive. It was hard to cut into it, but nobody was willing to take a bite sight unseen. The filling appeared to be lotus seed paste, like that found in the traditional moon cakes.
Flavor and texture were maybe not for everyone. If you like mooncake, you’ll like pig cake. If not, maybe you should try something else. For another view of Hing Shing Pastry, check out this photo by Lee Cullivan, also on view - and for sale - at Hudson Street Gallery.
No, I don’t mean the trouble all those college kids are getting into, I mean Charity Muggers, or “chuggers” as the limeys call them. I was at lunch with @tangyslice in Davis square today and observed him live-blogging the local charity panhandlers. Being who I am, I couldn’t help but geolocate Tangy’s observed data.
A few weeks ago, I got a call from C, asking me some odd questions about framing and insurance. It turns out he’s setting up a (temporary?) gallery in some vacant space in a building his family owns in Chinatown. I’ve blogged once or twice about the Hudson Street Gallery, which had a stealth opening a week or two ago, but finding this clip on flickr reminded me how quickly it all came together.
Well, not quite that quickly, but the fact remains that the official grand opening is this Saturday, September 6, from 12 to 5. A full-fledged photography gallery with four contemporary shooters and an exhibit of Chinatown historical material. Check it out at www.hudsonstreetgallery - thanks to Lee for the clip.
Intrepid museum buddy L (who has a shiny new Marketing Analytics blog!) joined me for brunch today in Chinatown and then we popped in at the new Hudson Street Gallery. We visited local favorite China Pearl, arriving just before the 11:00 rush to the among the first seated upstairs. We had a sampling of usual favorites, notably shrimp and vegetable dumplings, and a couple of not so usual dishes, such as the crab claw:
How do you eat these, asked L. To be honest, I’ve never been really sure of the “correct” method, but I do it by holding them by the claw and eating the fried noodle-encrusted crabmeat like a seafood popsicle. I consider myself pretty handy with chopsticks, but the crab claw is beyond my capabilities.
Almost sated, we were looking around for one last morsel when I spied across the room a cart with one of my favorite dim sum items, but one whose name I did not know. It’s a dish of shanghai-style fried breat wrapped with rice noodles and sprinkled with green onions and soy sauce.
The limeduck crack research team has since determined that the name of this dish is Jia Luong or perhaps Zha Liang. Whatever you call it, it’s delicious. It’s a combination of very different textures and flavors, but the net effect is wonderful. After brunch, we picked up some Vietnamese iced coffee (chicory coffee with condensed milk!) and headed over to the Hudson Street Gallery.
I blogged about the Hudson Street Gallery last weekend at the August Moon Festival. Today it was much quieter so we were able to spend some more time with the work. HSG is gearing up for its actual grand opening on September 6 during the Asian Community Development Corporation’s Hudson Street Stories project. It’s an interesting story very similar to the better-known bulldozing of the West End to make way for Government Center. I hope you can all check it out sometime.
I found out, at the last minute as per usual, that the final performance of Harborwalk Sounds at the ICA was last night. I quickly diverted prior plans with J (sorry, Toro, we’ll be back) and took the other side of the silver line to the ICA. Harborwalk Sounds puts Berklee Jazz musicians on stage on the deck behind (in front of?) the ICA. We heard bassist and vocalist Katie Thiroux in a trio format with so far as I can tell uncredited horns and drums. They cooked, although I could tell that the harbor breeze was hard on their fingers.
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