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Sunday, June 26, 2011

Monk’s Café - June 21 Visit

And now a new report from P. Thatcher on a recent visit to Monk's Cafe. - Adam


Monk’s Café Belgian Beer and Emporium and Restaurant, June 21 7:15PM – 9:00PM

Report By: P. Thatcher


I had never been to Monk’s before, although I’ve passed by it many times. When a visiting friend (VF) suggested it as an alternative to the fully booked Barbuzo it seemed like a fine suggestion, so we agreed to meet up there for dinner.

As it happened work was slow Tuesday so I stayed home. My hot date and I took the bus together from stately Thatcher manor and made excellent time to the restaurant. We arrived at about 7:10, and there we hit upon an unexpected flaw in my planning: Monk’s will not seat you until your whole party has arrived. Since the actual planned meet-up time with VF was 7:30, I and the luscious hot date (LHD) had to wait. Now, this would not have seemed so bad except that it was hot in there, and the bar was packed. Not a seat in the house available, so LHD and I had to stand.

While I managed to maintain my stoic calm, I could tell that LHD was very annoyed at the wait and lack of seating. For those of you unfamiliar with women, this is a bad omen for the rest of the evening. On the other hand, I got a good look at a Dyson fan, which was interesting to see in operation. Alien technology or no, it was still outmatched by the heat in the room, but it helped when it blew right at me.

So I and LHD spent some time looking at the room. The bar was filled almost exclusively with men during the time we were waiting. I did see some mussel pots delivered to them as well, so eating at the bar is an option.

Eventually, VF arrived, and very quickly our black-clad feline hostess got us to a very cute three seat alcove. Now things started to improve significantly. [I later learned that the semi-private nook made the LHD very happy, and much inclined to visit again.] Waters arrived, and I started reviewing the incredibly long and helpful beer menu.

So, I don’t know much about beer. I blame society. And advertising. So I’m sitting there and looking at one of Philadelphia’s greatest beer lists and I have no idea what I ought to drink. Sure I want it to taste good, but it would also be nice to impress VF and LHD.

So, I review the beer list, and I realize there’s a whole section on fruit beers. [Wikipedia later teaches me more about the lambics.] And so, grasping at straws, I tell feline hostess, I’d like something with cherry.

Here, friends, is what it means to live in civilization: she starts to actually help me! My rough guess is that the beer list has something like 200 entries on it, from all over the whole planet. And she is able to immediately begin narrowing down options (“do you like it sweeter, or more tart”) to identify which beer I should try. It’s amazing. VF applauds the hostess’s obvious beer knowledge. And soon arrives in my hands one of the most astonishing beers I’ve ever had.

If you can imagine a wondrous beer version of sour cherry soda, then that is the beer I had. Specifically a bottle of Lindemans Kriek. It was $12 and they brought the bottle and the appropriate glassware. I was stunned.

You want to know what VF and LHD drank? Best as I recall giddy on the bubbles…nothing. And with uncharacteristic restraint, I decided to slow-go it to keep up with the ladies.

Noise level in the room was low enough that all three of us could talk comfortably. I greatly appreciated that.

You know what I also greatly appreciate? Hamburgers. I had their Ardennes hamburger with the pommes frites on the sides, cooked medium. It was great, and definitely filled me up. The LHD had eaten a late lunch, so she opted for dessert for dinner. The hostess gracefully brought out the desert tray, and the LHD went for the buttermilk blueberry tart.

VF ordered the classic Belgian dish: Mussels. It was the small, but even so I don’t think she managed to eat all of them. Her dish included bread at the side to sop up the broth and a side of the pommes frites.

We ate and talked. In the end it was a wonderful time.

The bill arrived quickly when we asked for it, the total was reasonable, and by this point, about 9 o’clock, the room had started to clear and the bar now had free seats available.

As we stepped out into the summer evening, the LHD shared that other than the long wait to get seated she had really enjoyed the evening. So I avoided the perdition’s flames of an angry woman, and call the evening a success.


P. Thatcher

Monday, June 20, 2011

G Lounge - June 3 Visit

And now comes another long-awaited report, from another new writer, Ebony Knight. -Adam


G Lounge, Friday June 3
Report by: Ebony Knight


As a busy wife, mother, and prelaw student, I covet the rare opportunities I get to let my hair down and just be ME! Imagine my disappointment when, after finally finding an outfit that didn’t scream “soccer-mom”, getting all six of my little angels settled with the sitter (yes, I said SIX!), and breaking a few traffic laws to find the G Lounge and a place to park in downtown Philadelphia early enough to get in free, I ended up being turned away at the door because I didn’t have proper ID. After the initial shock of being “carded”, my husband and I made the trek back to the parking garage to retrieve my driver’s license from my purse. Of course we ended up having to pay full price since the bouncer claimed it was after 10:00pm already.

The atmosphere outside the G Lounge leads one to believe that they are about to enter an upscale establishment. The bouncer who asks you if you’re “on the list”, the pic of Snoop Dogg on their website, and the inscription you read when you walk in “sophisticated nightlife” all contribute to the ambiance of exclusivity. However, upon entering the G Lounge, I found it to be more like a boring house party in someone’s basement.

After going down a few stairs and through a couple doors you’re met by an ex (or aspiring) pimp whom I assume was watching either the register, the girl on the register, or both. I am not exaggerating when I say he looked like a wanna-be-pimp: mismatched polyester suit, hat, gold rings and all! Proceeding past this unexpected source of comic relief, we entered the G Lounge and ordered a drink at one of their three bars. Unfortunately, we only ordered one drink since my request for something “cute and slushy” couldn’t be fulfilled because they don’t have blenders in their establishment. What kind of bar doesn’t have a blender!?!?!?! Anyway, the one drink we did order cost us a whopping $15 bucks!

It wasn’t hard to find a place to sit since the place was virtually empty besides a few stragglers here and there who were enjoying drinks quietly. There was also a group of young guys who seemed to be doing a pretty good job entertaining themselves in what was supposed to be the VIP section of the club. Note: this “VIP” area consists of an unenclosed, elevated strip of the room with one girl dancing at the entrance of the room for everyone to see. Sadly, this wasn’t even a perk since neither of the two girls who took turns dancing had any rhythm. I guess the big guy blocking the entrance of the landing makes it “VIP”.

The lounge/basement was decorated very comfortably with some sections of it actually looking like a living room, complete with flat screen televisions on the wall. We were bored out of our minds for the first hour we were there. We actually got out hands stamped and left for a while just to walk around the city and grab a quick bite to eat with hopes that the party would start poppin by the time we returned. After window shopping and enjoying a free doughnut from Krispy Kreme for doughnut day, we returned to find that a few more people had shown up, but the party was far from poppin. Maybe it was the house/techno music that I couldn’t quite get with or the boring movie that kept catching my attention and on the flat screen televisions, but I couldn’t stop yawning and after another hour or so I finally decided to retire to life as usual…Until next time!

Ebony Knight

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Tavern on Camac Karaoke

And now a new writer, Bryant Nnadi, describing a recent evening of karaoke at Tavern on Camac -Adam


Karaoke Night, Tavern on Camac on Tuesday, June 14th
Report by: Bryant Nnadi


Last Night I went to a bar called Tavern (short for Tavern on Camac) that is located off a hidden block called Camac St (near the intersection with Spruce).

I was out with one of my female friends and she is a die hard karaoke freak. In fact her love of karaoke has introduced me to a new scene in Philadelphia that is starting to make some headway. They call themselves the "The Karaoke Night Lifers". This scene consists of mainly after work professionals and artists, but the crowd is rich in personality and, surprisingly, talent.

When I arrived at the bar with my friend, I honestly didn't know what to expect. From the way that television depicts Karaoke, it didn't seem that exciting or much of an adventure to sit around and listen to people ruin your favorite song. Instead I was greeted with a lush atmosphere, reminiscent of what the days when the folks used to party at Studio 54. The lights and decor were lavishly modern and minimalist. At the bar, my first conversation of the night garnered a a good number of people that were all pretty attractive. There weren't that many women in to enjoy the night with, but there were some pretty interesting characters that easily stole the night.

One person (who for confidentiality purposes we'll call Steve) found my friend very interesting and asked her to perform a number of duets with him, from Rent, Cats, & Les Miserables to Showtunes. A part of me felt like he was trying to steal my friend away from me, but another half just couldn't get over how entertaining the whole night was becoming. After a few long winded solos on my part, some friendly Stoli representatives came by and handed out free drinks which made Singing in front of a crowd of complete strangers even more appealing.

By the end of the night, I made new friends, learned a thing or two about Karaoke, and got to enjoy a night at a totally new venue.

I can't wait to see where I end up tonight.

Bryant Nnadi

Ranstead Room - Shelter from the Sun (and Center City Sips)

And now, from P. Thatcher, a report I have long been waiting to read. -Adam

Yesterday I stepped out of work and decided that it was a good day for a cocktail. Amuse came to mind as an alternative, but my gut was to try Ranstead Room first. Along the way I noticed several big crowds out, included a loud party over at 19th and Market. I was surprised for a moment wondering at big crowds on a Wednesday night. But comprehension soon dawned as I remembered that Center City Sips has started a couple of weeks ago.

Walking through the late afternoon sunshine, it was about 5:30 when I reached the Ranstead Room. I pushed open the first door and really was blind for a moment in the relative darkness. But I adjusted quickly-must be all the carrots I eat.

So it was that I managed to be one of the first folks in for the evening. David, standing nattily attired and ready to deliver, was the bartender this evening. I took a front-row seat at the soft bar to watch him do his work.

After asking me a few questions about my interests for the evening, he began preparing my drink. First off was a Toronto Cocktail. It was a magical paintbrush of a drink, and set the world even righter.

As I sat and sipped, I observed other folks starting to walk in. First a young man waiting for his date, then another couple who also took on a bit of the bar.

I had to decide what to do next, and decided upon grapefruit as the touchstone of my next drink. Again, the good wizard was ready with a drink, this time the Hemingway Daiquiri.

Now the world was expending, and I could ponder upon all that was right with the world. Including my having to read A Farewell to Arms long ago in high school.

By now I was getting hungry, and so I tried the cheese plate. I can say definitively the blue cheese and goat cheese were excellent. They were washed with a bit of a margarita-style drink I'd requested on the wild hare idea of a liquid General Tso's.

Finally I was ready to return to the outside world. By this time the sun had kindly chosen to dim a bit and I could continue on with my night.

If you have ever been frustrated getting a seat, going early is an excellent strategy. I was dressed business casual, and felt I blended in fine. But in general it's a good place to dress up. The service is excellent. The prices are reasonable for what's being provided.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Mexican Post Love Park - Outdoor Dining

And now comes P. Thatcher's report on the Mexican Post Love Park location. -Adam

Mexican Post, Love Park
June 3, 2011.

Report By: P. Thatcher

I am always up for a party, so when the e-mail came saying "Happy Hour" my day was made. The invite mentioned that Mexican Post was picked for its outdoor seating, and convenience. I might be ready to hop a taxi to some Old City outpost, but I understand that people with wives or dogs or children or World-of-Warcraft waiting for them at home might not be as excited about venturing far from our offices.

I popped over at 5 sharp, making me the first of the crew to arrive. Friday was about about as nice a day as Philadelphia ever has: sunny, not to hot, with a breeze. There was already a big crowd in a cordoned off area of outdoor seating, and a DJ playing some music from portable speakers.

About five minutes later, the first wave of the rest of the party arrived. The partier-in-charge asked the hostess, an attractive brunette, by the way, about getting a table for ten. Expected wait, 30-45 minutes, but we were free to stand and get drinks from the small outdoor bar. We took that deal.

The little bar had margaritas, red cans of Tecate, and maybe Lager? I went with a margarita, graciously paid for by one of my co-workers. Now, this is a margarita in a plastic cup, and fairly low strength. No problem, I could nurse it a while and continue enjoying hanging out.

So we socialized and a few things started to become appearant. The first was that standing too close to the speakers was really annoying. The second was that 30-45 minutes was a very optimistic guess. Part of the problem, I think, is that the crowd was having a wonderful time starting the weekend with a little buzz in the sun. I know I was impressed. Even if my legs were getting tired.

Our crew had a few splits and re-orgs, so by about 7:30 we got a table for six. The sun was still out, people watching could continue, and food was on the way. I wound up getting more shrimp than anticipated (I was trying to order the appetizer, wound up with an entree. No big deal, I was hungry enough to tackle it. Waitress was apologetic.) Closed out the night with a shot of Don Julio Blanco ($14).

By 9:30 the party was winding down. And, perhaps because of its dependence on Center City worker bees, so was Mexican Post. They were quick with the check. The bathrooms were clean. And so the happy hour ended.

A few further notes. If you are trying to meet new people, the patio is really not the right place to do it. Most everyone there was part of a party of some sort. So although it was fun to people-watch, I don't think anyone would have felt comfortable striking up a conversation with a different table. For that, you would probably be better off at the bar indoors. Also, on a nice day, it's going to be hard to get a nice chain of table all to yourself without arriving early. We will remember that for next time. By 5 the place was packed.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

JR's Bar featuring The Biters, The Booze, The Midnight Beat, and Mean Streets

And now the latest report from Emily Currier from last weekend.

The Biters, The Booze, The Midnight Beat, and Mean Streets
JR’s Bar on Saturday May 28th

Report By: Emily Currier

In the removed nook of deep south Philly, JR’s Bar is known by some as “that venue across from a Goodwill” but those in the know can rely on it for gritty punk shows. Through a duct-taped door in two pieces then another door with roughly seven deadbolts, you find your way into the small, smoky interior of JR’s. Considering the bar’s location and ownership, it was surprising that there was nothing even vaguely Italian about the décor, music selection, available beer, etc etc. Instead, JR’s is a dive bar like any other, supplying particularly cheap beer and crowded with the Philly punk scene.

Being naive and grappling with the onset of a summer cold, I showed up at JR’s around 8:45 pm, hoping against hope the estimated 8 – 11pm show times promised by Facebook were correct. Predictably I suppose, this wasn’t the case. My cold prevented me from enjoying the ability to smoke inside and the $2 Lionshead and PBR as much as I would’ve liked to. The bouncer gather the $5 cover around 9pm and the first band, Mean Streets, didn’t start up until around 9:30pm. In the meantime, Top 40 hits blared through the speakers, unaware of their surroundings.

The tattooed crowd remained subdued during the Mean Streets’ power pop set. A trio from Philly and Jersey, Mean Streets elongated fast-paced punk chords across five-minute songs. By frequently drawing out the end of one song straight into the next, Mean Streets created a surprisingly cohesive punk set. Self described as “the only garage punk band left in Philly,” The Midnight Beat continued to rep the Philly punk scene. With a more muscular sound, The Midnight Beat, like Mean Streets, performed energetic, almost playful punk. With a crowd that could easily take itself way to seriously, the night’s tone was of fun over pretense.

The friend I went with, who somehow knows everyone there is to know in Philly, tried to convince me to stay, promising a killer after-party at her place. I decided, though, that having a nose like a dripping faucet might not be the best look for winning over the mod Booze and Biters crowd so I was inclined to dip out early, unfortunately. I know The Booze and The Biters, up from Atlanta, put on a hell of a show, so I’ll keep my ears out for their future visits.

Emily Currier

http://twitter.com/chimneytulip
http://culturemob.com/blog/philadelphia

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