IGTC Endorses: La Esquina!

The taqueria part of this place is great.

Go there. Eat tacos. Be happy.

New York City Launch

So this past Friday was the NYC event for Jazz Age Barcelona at the Catalan Center at NYU. The King Juan Carlos Center hosted it and there was quite a nice crowd! My good friend and fellow print culture studies colleague, Jordana Mendelson introduced the book and totally made me blush during her extremely kind and generous intro. Then I said a few words and discussed some of the images before we just let the event turn into a free-flowing discussion between Jordana and me and the members of the public. It turned out really well. And ha ha, my request for cava at the reception afterwards was also a big hit as people finished off the case in short order... : )



Seeing so many great friends come out to help celebrate the book was again very humbling and rewarding. Duma came down from Toronto, Fran from Providence, Rosi from Philly and I got to see many other fantastic people who had sacrificed their Friday night for 1920s Catalonia... and cava, claro...


I find it really hard to talk sitting down...

The rest of the week-end was a great time just hanging out, shopping (picked up a couple of great new jackets) and exploring different parts of the city: like the Highline Park, a green space on top of the old elevated railway that ran through the meatpacking district... so cool...


Highline Park in Chelsea/Meatpacking District



Flatiron Building (much taller than Toronto's Gooderham [1892], but finished later [1902])


The men's section at Century 21 Department Store. Lots of deals but crazy-busy and full of tourists.


Interesting sky.


The Kitchen Underground reunited in NYC (minus the kitchen, unfortunately)


I like how the marquee and the façade play off one another.


Beautiful underground NYC.


More sky and buildings.

The Hold Steady -- Concert Review

So I had gone a year without seeing my favourite live band of recent years, The Hold Steady.

People say, "who?" And I say, "Hold Steady."

People say, "why?" And I say, "Hold Steady."

And then I say, "Unironic joy. That's why."

These guys impress because not only do they bring it every night, but they unabashedly love playing. There is no posing (ok, maybe a little by the bassist when he starts getting cute with the keyboardist) and the insane gesticulations carried out by lead singer Craig Finn are real and engaging. Finding something authentically joyful in popular culture is not exactly easy these days and so for that reason, I latched onto them and even though their last album took an exceedingly long time to grow on me, I'm still hooked.

Tickets for the two Toronto shows at Lee's Palace this past week-end sold out quickly and I only had time to grab a couple for the first night. Now, while I used to preach the Hold Steady gospel and hope for them to make it big, I'm a little torn by the fact that they have become VERY big with frat boy types who seem to REALLY REALLY get into them. Less of a communion (how their concerts are often described), Saturday night was more a raucous episode of binge drinking with the Hold Steady playing the part of the alcohol. Duma and I were down in front and it had been a while since I'd been in a mosh-pit like atmosphere but what can I say, I just wasn't digging all of the sweaty boors... But that aside, the show was great. The setlist included a nice mix of old chestnuts, hidden gems, new tracks out and about for the first time and warhorses. Check it out:

Positive Jam
Magazines
Barfruit Blues
Hurricane J
Sequestered
Multitude
Stevie Nix
Hot Soft Light
Heaven Is Whenever
Chips Ahoy!
Yeah Sapphire
Massive Nights
Party Pit
Slight Discomfort
Southtown
Hoodrat
Goin' On A Hike
Slapped Actress

ENCORE:

Certain Songs
Constructive
Stations
Killer Parties

"Multitude of Casualties" and "Stevie Nix" were a great treat -- although you could tell that not everyone in the crowd was a long-time fan. Then, the trio of "Yeah Sapphire," "Massive Nights," and "Party Pit" really cranked things up before Constructive Summer and Stuck Between Stations brought the house down. There wasn't any "First Night" (which has particular resonance for me but wouldn't have fit with Saturday's vibe, anyway) nor "How a Resurrection Really Feels" at the end (although they finished with that one on Sunday). But, hey, I'm not going back-packing in Africa again for a while (oh, except for Kilimanjaro for my 40th next year) so I'm sure that I'll get another chance to see them again soon. This is a band that is not to be missed live.

hold steady.

(crank up the volume, the levels are low on this link...)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xm4hqZuKr_g&feature=related

Toronto Book Launch

Had the Toronto launch of Jazz Age Barcelona this past Wednesday night. It was quite simply one of the best evenings of my life. To be surrounded by so many great friends all at once was an absolute privilege.

My friend Marta, who is visiting from Girona, spent the afternoon making tortilla de patata and I even helped peel potatoes (for the first time! note: this is noteworthy because I don't EAT potatoes). The Press did a fabulous job of putting the evening together. The publicist Andrea-Jo was fantastic and arranged some good food and for a couple of jazz musicians to play during the evening. Ben Mcnally's Books, for those who haven't been, is a brilliant space and was the perfect spot to host the event.

My colleague Joe gave me a very warm and generous introduction and then I gave my speech, which Marta recorded on her camera (see below...). It was such a wonderful feeling to look out and see everyone there enjoying the cava and food but of course, it was tough in the sense that it was impossible to spend very much time with any one person/group in particular.

So all in all, a fabulous evening... and the added bonus is that it really motivates you to have another one! With any luck, I shouldn't have to wait tooooo long as The Hotel: Space Over Time (also with U of Toronto P), should hopefully be out in a year and a half...

IGTC Endorses: Journal For Plague Lovers by the Manic Street Preachers

OK, so this album has been out for a couple of months in the UK but is as-of-yet unreleased here in Canada, which meant I had to pick up the import over at Soundscapes. I have to thank Derek for getting me back into this band. He called a couple of weeks ago with the news that they are touring and suggested that we go see them when they hit T.O. in October.

Their debut classic, Generation Terrorists, is one of those discs that has ALWAYS been in the car... I don't even know if it has ever been in the house... Now, "Motorcycle Emptiness" conjures up memories of driving to the moulin everyday back when I lived in Pincourt, of countless kilometres on the 401, trips to Kingston, Ottawa and just plain driving around town.

So getting back into their catalogue has been a trip even if I do prefer the earlier stuff. Imagine my surprise, then, when I heard the first couple of songs from Journal and realised that the lyrics were most definitely written by Ritchey (the band's lyricist who disappeared in 1995 and was recently presumed dead). It's very weird to hear that vibe coming literally from beyond the dead. And with lyrics like "Oh mummy what's a sex pistol?" you have to smile.

Toronto Book Launch is a Go!

Apres Barcelona

Whew... finally starting to feel grounded again after those two quick trips to Catalonia in June. The second, which was generously paid for by the Generalitat, had me giving the keynote at the launch of the latest issue of Cultura. I was particulary pleased with the layout of the magazine and the funky graphics that they chose to go along with my article. You can check it out here:

http://cultura2.gencat.cat/revistacultura/_pdf/51709507%20Robert%20A.%20Davidson.pdf

This phase of work for the Generalitat, while intense, has been really good in terms of concretising what I hope will be my wider contribution to studies on contemporary Barcelona. That is, the notion of "siege modernity" as a master metaphor for understanding the modern experience in the Catalan capital as it moves further into a post-modern phase that has seen it evacuated of specificity in the search for ever-greater brand status.

Am now officially back from sabbatical and today performed a very satisfying purge of assorted crap that had accumulated in my office over my Asst. Prof years...

Various projects on the go... the hotel book, which I've re-titled The Hotel: Space Over Time is hopefully going to be my priority this year after I finish up a couple of pending essays and chapter contributions. Am still waiting on UTP re: an advance contract but their interest seems firm, so that's great.

You Know It's Over When...

The Carlaw Carburator store, bellweather of non-hipsterness in quickly evolving Leslieville, goes out of business and a liquor licence application appears in the window...




This sign always reads "Up Yours" to me for some reason...


Tram wires at Broadview & Queen.


Pointy building at Distillery District.

Because I Love You All...

http://www.saveur.com/article/Food/Steam-Clams-with-Ham-in-White-Wine

This is Colman Andrews riffing on Cal Pep's "worth the damn wait in the queue" recipe...

Just tried it -- delicious!

Talk in Barcelona

Will be heading back to Barcelona on 27 June to give a talk on the 30th. Then I have to high-tail it back to Toronto for one Prof. Néstor Rodríguez´s imminent nuptials...

Anyone interested in hanging out in Barna for a couple of days, by all means jump on Ryan Air!

Quimet Quimet: Another Barcelona Insitution

Vermouth vs Champers
[note: click on the images for extra-big goodness!]

This is one of those places where you wander in, start picando and then lo and behold, you're both happy drunk and in the hole a good fair bit... Alas, it is totally worth it, though, as the montaditos and combinats that the owners serve up are simply spectacular.


Vermouth makes a comeback for a combinat of tuna and salmon.


Champagne, a clear victor in the war of paté, foie and candied chestnuts.


Vins a Quimet Quimet


New meets old in the Raval

El Roure/Roble

Colleen just reminded me that it has been almost 10 years since we have been going to the Roure, the bar in Gràcia that adopted us way back when we were young Cornellians hanging out in Barcelona for the first time as budding Catalanistas... whoa... Tempus fugit.

This place is really something else. Anyone who doubts that a bar or restaurant can be a community centre has never been here. This is where I go if I ever feel lonely in Barcelona and let it be known that Toni and Santi are just plain awesome: always happy to see you and very quick on the cava or the copa or the "otro vaso para la princesa..." : )

Herewith, my impromtu mini Roure photo-essay, minus what Santi said he should do to vet Colleen's boyfriend... ; )









UPDATE!

Brad was kind enough to send in these pics from their trip to Barcelona a while back...


Aga, Santi and Silvia


Brad, Santi and Aga

Market Scenes

This morning I had an absolutely wonderful little visit to the Galvany Market here in my neighbourhood. I had gone to the supermarket earlier to get sundries and things and almost didn't go back out for the good fresh stuff but since the weather was nice as it can get for me here in Barcelona (dry air, cool breeze and big clouds), I figured that I had no excuse.

The market is one of the ones in the xarxa or network that is really thriving. Being located in Sant Gervasi obviously doesn't hurt (this is a very well-off little enclave between Gràcia and Sarrià) but there is a real sense of community and the people here aren't afraid to let you in.

1st Scene:

I had forgotten to have my coffee back at the flat so I figured I'd just sidle up to one of the wee bars in the market. I chose the first one that I saw and sat down on a stool. The little old lady who served me was charming. She must be over 80 but her hair is brilliant blond and in her soft-spoken voice, she asked me what I wanted. She made my tallat slowly and deliberately and it was really cute seeing such a slight granny go through the practised motions of making an espresso. Credit where credit is due, though! Her arms were muscular and toned and they reminded me of Jenna's at Bar Mercurio as she removed the portafilter, banged out the used grounds, filled it up and tamped it again. The best though was after the coffee had been drawn, she stood and let every single drip fall into my cup... Her daughter, who was talking on the phone, winked at me, covered the mouthpiece and said, "It's done, ma, give the man his coffee!" The older lady, who had gone into a sort of reverie, smiled and took the cup from the machine and presented it to me with the requisite bag of sugar and spoon. "I'm sorry, lad," she said. "I'm getting old..." I told her not to worry, that I was impressed that she didn't waste even a single drop. The old lady smiled even more and said, "You see! Why let those drops go? It's good coffee..." I knew what she wanted to say next, so I gave her the segueway, "People these days," I said, "don't appreciate everything they have." She nodded enthusiastically and it was plain as day that this lady had known poverty in her life and probably hunger too.



2nd Scene

I wandered back towards the Santalò street entrance and some cured meats caught my eye. Last night Andrew, Kirsty and I had finished our ramble through Barcelona at Carmelitas and we had eaten some incredibly good fuet de Vic. That stuff was buttery and oh-so-good... I figured that I should look for some more and when my turn to be served came and the lady behind the counter asked me what I wanted, I decided to just put myself in her hands. I asked for some good llonganissa and a cheese from Catalunya. As we went throught the ritual of her adjusting the knife on the products that she had picked out until it reached the amount that I wanted, at least 4 people came by and called out to her. They all said how great it was to see her and expressed surprise that she was back so soon and how young she looked with her new haircut. After the second instance of this, the woman looked up at me and explained that she had suffered a stroke three months ago and that they had to open up her skull. I could see the scar through her hair but couldn't believe that she had recovered so quickly and was back at work already. She shrugged and said that she had been lucky and that after 40 years of working in the stall, she was where she wanted to be. After I had paid and yet more people had come by to wish her well, I looked at her and said "The market is a family, oi?" She smiled and replied happily "I tant!" [you can say that again].

Scene 3

Both of those little episodes had made me very happy; I love markets for the things you learn about people and how small interactions can all of a sudden be imbued with really meaningful resonances regarding how we live, what community means and the role of food in bringing people together. The fact that I'm a confirmed hedonist also means that markets for me are places of caprice and it was with this in mind that I headed to the centre of the building where the seafood stalls are located. I did the cursory tour and did indeed see many things that appealed to me: spitting clams, thrashing Mediterranean lobsters, prawns of all shapes and sizes... but then one thing caught my eye and I knew what I would be eating for lunch (indeed, as soon as I finish this entry!): cues de rap or baby monkfish tails. The fishmonger saw the glint in my eye and he waved at them, "These are delectable! Just fry them up and there you go! A total pleasure." He knew he had me hooked and from there on it was simply a question of how many I was going to take... We settled on 5 euros 75 for a handful and when I tried to just give him a round 6 he would have none of it (in keeping with the Catalan resistance to tips of any sort) and called me back for my equivalent of a quarter. "Remember," he instructed, "fry them quickly... and then enjoy!"

And with that, I shall do just that... : )

Time For Champagne at IGTC!

Just got word that U of Toronto Press is preparing an advance contract for my book on hotels and cultural theory...

Yay!

Slow Burn

Very effective burn treatment gel.

So I finally got bumped up to 1st class. Unfortunately, it was a result of being scalded by a litre of hot tea...

I'm on the plane to Frankfurt... just had dinner and am dozing while watching an episode of Mad Men. Am reaching that happy airplane sleep state when all of a sudden I feel something bang into my chair arm and hear a crash... then I feel a lot of VERY hot liquid hit my leg and side... I try to leap up but am strapped in so I start to swear LOUDLY: "Me cago en Diós! Jesus F*&k!! Putaaaaaaa!" I finally get myself free and pull out my shirt while the stewardess does effectively nothing. In fact, she kept serving coffee. Oh, then she gave me some ice, which I applied but after seeing myself in the bathroom mirror with a big red scald mark, I figured something else was in order. I had to ask for the first aid kit to be opened... and only then was I given some burn treatment gel (which works like a charm, by the way). Eventually, a more senior member of the flight crew took over handling my case and whisked me up to first class where I could lie down with my shirt off and apply the gel.

When asked if they could get me anything, I asked that they open a bottle of champagne for my nerves because seriously, the fright of being woken up by boiling liquid was pretty fucking fierce!

Am feeling much better now and there was no blistering, so that's good.

I much preferred having brandy spilled on me like the last time I flew to Europe...

Alas...

Recent Food Fotos

Elk striploin from 2nd Wind Elk (Rockwood, Ontario)


Wild leeks from Duma.


Leek leaves, parsley and buttermilk in ye olde Cuisinart...


Ready for the risotto...


Live BC spot prawns.


Not-so-live BC spot prawns...


Our friend garlic frying for the picada.


Bread frying up for the picada.


Toasted almonds and hazelnuts for the picada.


Pulverised nuts for picada.