Archive for the ‘Reviews’ Category
The Night Circus is like a fine etching, rich in detail and artistically crafted. Although
black and white are the dominant hues, the nuances of lighting and shading result in a
rainbow of detail.
The word magical to describe Erin Morgenstern’s novel is inadequate. The story is so
much more. The circus, only open at night and in various places around the world,
transports its audience members, and thus readers, to beyond the suspension of dis-
belief. Taking place between 1873 and 1903 the story moves from one time frame to
another, from character to character, from love story to mystery, while Morgenstern
tells a very tall tale that is engaging and exciting.
Magic, or the manipulation of what people believe they see, is the backdrop. The
circus is the venue for a battle of the beautiful and incredible between Celia and
Marco. They have been trained their entire lives by masters who have no regard
for emotion or repercussions. Although Marco and Celia are destined to try to sur-
pass each other through their skills of illusion, no one is prepared for the direction
their relationship takes.
The vivid cast of characters demonstrates the human element of magic and mystery.
Attachments develop among them, and with the reader, creating plenty of tension
wondering not only what will happen between Marco and Celia, but to those whose
lives depend on the night circus.
Morgenstern’s black and white portrait is as lively as any circus, but far more fantastic
than any that can be imagined.
The Night Circus
Four-and-a-half Bookmarks
Doubleday, 2011
387 pages
A wait staff that actually knows its restaurant’s food is nothing to dismiss. This is
true whether the fare is extraordinary or not. The Crystal Park Cantina has a
knowledgeable, friendly staff that complements its twist on exceptional Mexican food.
Margaritas, chips and salsa give the impression this is a standard Mexican restaurant;
however, after perusing the menu this is quickly dispelled.
Asking a server for his or her favorite menu item is nothing new; sometimes it seems
like a crap shoot. I asked my server at the Cantina what sauce she recommended for
the Chile Relleno: pork green chile or tomatillo Alfredo? Her face lit up and, without
hesitation, she said half and half. The green chile has a depth of flavor that has no-
thing to do with being too spicy. An Alfredo sauce is not something necessarily asso-
ciated with anything south of the border, but this rich cream base is augmented by
the green tomatoes. Having the sauces side-by-side felt like picking the winning Lotto
numbers.
The relleno was light with the chili and cheese the rightful heir to the plate. Too often
an over-eggy batter attempts a coup and overshadows the chile, cheese or both. Here
a pastry-like shell covers the two chiles like a thin, protective blanket.
The entrees include frijoles and saffron-infused rice. A dollop of guacamole and an-
other of pico de gallo result in a very colorful plate.
By the way, there’s nothing wrong with those margaritas, chips and salsa – the servers
recommend them.
Four Plates
The Crystal Park Cantina
178 Crystal Park Rd., Manitou Springs, CO
Just because everyone has a story to tell, doesn’t mean everyone should. It’s
nice, though, that Adriana Trigiani shares hers in the memoir, Don’t Sing at
the Table: Life Lessons From My Grandmothers.
Trigiani imparts memories and the advice given by both of her grandmothers:
Lucy (on her mother’s side) and Viola (on her father’s). Although the two
had little direct interaction with one another, they had a profound influence
on the author. Both were hardworking, independent women who raised families,
ran their own businesses, suffered personal losses, but lived long rich lives.
This describes many grandmothers today, but this was the 1940s and ‘50s.
These Italian-American women weren’t just role models to their granddaughter
(and others); they also had plenty of advice to dispense, from parenting to
femininity, from marriage to adventure. Trigiani’s writing is conversational.
It’s easy to imagine the time spent with Lucy and Viola, and to feel the im-
pact they had. These were tough but caring women who found success at work
and happiness at home.
The title is what caught my attention. Not singing at the table was one of
many family rules when I was a kid, but there was never an explanation.
Trigiani provides one. It comes from an Italian proverb: “Chi e canta a
tavola e piu stupido che fuma a letto, which translated means ‘He who
sings at the table is more stupid than the one who smokes in bed.’” This
is debatable, but it certainly makes for a good title.
Three Bookmarks
Harper Collins, 2010
204 pages
Some nights, no matter how hard you try to convince yourself, are simply not
meant to highlight a fine dining experience. This includes New Year’s Eve. If
not for the humor, warmth and companionship of friends, dinner at the
Crystola Roadhouse would have been a sorry way to end 2011.
Granted, the kitchen and wait staff was running on all cylinders, but most of
the misfires on the plate had nothing to do with being busy. The regular Friday
and Saturday night special is Prime Rib. It was the December 31st special as
well. It came with salad, mixed vegetables, roasted potatoes and bread. This
all sounds good.
The iceberg salad, with a few pieces of tomato added for color, arrived (literally)
a split second before the entrée. So much for pacing the meal.
The Prime Rib was cooked well and, despite using a steak knife with the tension
of a rubber band, was tender and flavorful. Nothing else could make the same
claim. The potatoes were undercooked. The mixed vegies, of corn, green beans,
peas and lima beans, came straight out of a supermarket’s frozen food section.
The bread was simply buttered toast.
I’m happy to note that service was above average, and the beer was plentiful.
Thank goodness for the company of good friends. Otherwise, as just a date night
destination, the Crystola Roadhouse might have had the potential to put a chill
on the evening that has nothing to do with temperatures on a cold winter’s night.
“Crystola Roadhouse”
Two Plates
20918 East U.S. Highway 24, Woodland Park, CO
Even though my own name belies the family stories I’ve heard about Echo Park,
I admit I judged Brando Skyhorse by his. I didn’t expect him to know much, if
anything, about Echo Lake, Chavez Ravine, and Elyssian Park near downtown Los
Angeles. Lo siento. His novel, The Madonnas of Echo Park, proves that he knows
the geography well and the community, too. Although not written in an especially
unique format, he creates a cohesive portrait of Mexican Americans in a time when
it is easy to overlook the fact that one word is an adjective and the other a noun.
Skyhorse relies on different narrators, all of whom are Latino, to relate varied
perspectives of a series of coincidently overlapping events. In their quest to wake
up in the American Dream, they recount nightmarish experiences.
Aurora Esperanza is the character about whom everything is connected. The story
weaves in and out of her childhood in the Echo Park area (when its residents were
primarily Spanish-speaking families) to the gentrification now underway. The grown
-up Aurora acknowledges that she has trouble recognizing her old haunts. Skyhorse
plays and replays the theme of being cast out of one once-distained area into an-
other with numerous references to Chavez Ravine. Families were forced to leave
their homes there to make room for Dodger Stadium.
I know the verdant Echo Park that sits like an island in a sea of automobile traffic,
and Skyhorse doesn’t just describe a neighborhood, he portrays its heart and soul.
“The Madonnas of Echo Park”
Three and a half Bookmarks
Free Press, 2010
199 pages
Two very sad things are conspicuous about Blood, Bones & Butter: The Inadvertent
Education of a Reluctant Chef by Gabrielle Hamilton: she was essentially abandoned
as a kid, and her parents probably have no clue what they missed. In spite of being
neglected, or perhaps because of it, Hamilton developed an inner strength and the
talent to express herself through food – and writing.
Hamilton appears as baffled by her life circumstances as any reader. She recounts
a happy early childhood as the youngest of five children in rural Pennsylvania.
However, those years were short-lived. Her family disintegrated through her parents’
divorce, and she was left to her own devices. With only a trace of bitterness
(mostly directed toward her mother), Hamilton recalls what it was like eking out
a living when she was still a kid.
By age 13, she knew she needed a job. She hasn’t stopped working since, and much of
her employment has been in restaurants or catering, it’s almost always been related
to food. Hamilton’s writing is vividly descriptive making it easy to not just see the
images she depicts, but also to feel the cool morning dew or to smell the smoke from
a pit fire or taste “a cold ham sandwich on good buttered grainy bread.”
Today, Hamilton is an accomplished chef and owner of Prune restaurant in New York City,
and her writing is stellar. Still, who leaves an almost-12-year-old to fend for herself,
even if the ultimate outcome appears to be exceptional?
Four and a half Bookmarks
Random House, 2011
291 pages
After reading the first eight – practically in one sitting – Stephanie Plum
comedy-mysteries, I knew I had to stop. And I did, cold turkey. I’d notice
a new catchy title, or a friend would mention the Morelli/Ranger lines of
division; but I stayed away. Except, for the past six months Smokin’ Seventeen
by Janet Evonovich has been languishing on my nightstand. It doesn’t matter
how it got there, only that I had successfully ignored it, for a while.
A few pages in, I remembered why I had abandoned Stephanie and all the other
whacky characters, the silly repartee and the inane situations. Nothing had
changed. Yet, I kept reading, and as I did, I was hooked. The banter became
less hare-brained: it was laugh out loud funny. I found myself enjoying the
flaws I had identified years ago.
Smokin’ Seventeen once again finds bounty hunger Stephanie in Trenton, N.J.
She remains caught between feelings (the ones that stir certain body parts
and emotions) for Morelli, the good cop, and Ranger, the sexy equivalent of
a bad cop. The story centers around a rash of dead bodies left near the places
Stephanie works and lives. Several corpses have notes addressed to her. The
possibility of a third romantic interest, one who can cook, also appears.
Evanovich is nothing if not prolific and humorous. Explosive Eighteen is now
in bookstores, but I plan on exercising self-control and not reading it any time
soon. Sometimes too much of a good thing gets old fast.
Three Bookmarks
Bantam Books, 2011
308 pages
Solace is found in the familiar, and La Baguette with its French onion
soup sets the benchmark for comfort. Although I encourage others to
sample different dishes, the only deviation I’ll make is including a
salad or extra roll with my order.
The venerable Westside eatery has been serving soups, sandwiches and
a few hot entrees for 28 years. It rarely varies in quality. The gooey
cheese stretches like soft taffy from the steaming rich beef broth thick
with onions; the house specialty is comfort food deified. Served with
a hard roll, whose crust shatters when broken, this remarkably simple
meal ($6.25) is complete.
The house salad is romaine dressed with olive oil, tarragon and lemon
juice. Again, simplicity is as much an ingredient as salt and pepper.
La Baguette’s combination of French onion soup and salad ($7.75) is
the best of all worlds.
Orders are placed at the counter behind which are stacked more than a
baker’s dozen of bread types – from extra long French batards to round
walnut-raisin loaves. All are airy with a hard crust. To be honest even
day-old bologna would be elevated by this bread – but that would be a
waste. The pastry case includes croissants, Napoleons, clafoutis, and
more. The overall décor is bistro-like with tables crowded together
making for snug dining companions.
On each visit, I am thrilled with the delicious consistency of the soup
a la maison. Looking around at the elbow-to-elbow tables, I always seem
to be in good company.
Five Plates
La Baguette
2417 W. Colorado Ave., Colorado Springs, CO 80904
719-577-4818
The Blue Page Special 