Living it up in culture capital 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2003 9:06 AM PST
By Grace Reade
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E-mail this articleIt's amazing how quickly things change. The last time I saw Adam, he was still pretty much a babe-in-arms. Now he is a little boy, walking and talking and with a mean right foot kicking a football.
My little grandson, who lives in England, has also learned how to take photos (with some help), and he took a gem of a picture of his dad.
The way he's going, next time I go over he'll be driving, going to university and thinking about his future career choices -- all at the age of 2! We have to allow for some grandmotherly hyperbole here. But I am stunned at just how soon a tiny blob becomes a person.
There have been changes to my old city of Liverpool, too. Just recently, the 'Pool (as some call it) has had a huge boost in its self-image by being elected as the European Capital of Culture for 2008.
The honor will coincide with the 800th anniversary of the granting of the city's charter by King John of Magna Carta fame. Many people have the impression that Liverpool is one step up from being a slum, full of layabouts and low-lifes. They couldn't be more wrong. The city has universities, art galleries (even the prestigious Tate has a facility in the booming Docklands project), two cathedrals, high-end housing, and more wonderful restaurants than you could shake a stick at.
The announcement of Liverpool's honor was greeted by some other cities --- namely Manchester, our great rival to the east --- with shock. But the Scousers took no notice of the brickbats being hurled and responded with a classy na-na-na-na-na and our version of Churchill's V sign (palm facing inward) which, in the US, would be a middle-finger gesture.
On a personal note, one further change was wonderful. From what my daughter Helen tells me, there are only two Russian restaurants in the UK. One is in London and the other is in our fair metropolis. Of course I had to check this out, and as my birthday was on October 25th, what better time to sample Russian cuisine?
The five of us - Helen and her husband, Danny; and my son Stuart and his wife, Heather; arrived in good time, making our way up a couple of flights of stairs, and were greeted by a smiling Russian hostess who seated us as recorded balalaika music played.
We were all ravenous and ready for something different.
What blew me away was not the huge choice of starters and main courses (146 in all) but the separate menu just for the vodkas, liqueurs, and beers.
Ranging from the very well-known Stolichnaya and super-potent Balkan through flavored varieties such as Zubrovka (bison grass?) and Slivovitz plum brandy to Villa Lobos Platinum mezcal (with worm!), there were well over 40 varieties.
Oh this sounded like fun in the offing! It took us quite a while to settle for anything, but finally I plumped for meat blini, described as one pancake stuffed with meat and onion and sautéed in a cream sauce. Helen thought the prawn blini sounded most toothsome. Danny picked something crabby and Stu surprised everyone by not going for his usual. It's almost written in stone that he pigs out on prawns. Instead he picked out a chicken salad and Heather treated herself (and the twins she is carrying) to the prawn cocktail.
Stu didn't miss out though. He and Heather swapped after a while. Not one drop of borscht was to be found anywhere - the choices were just too eye-popping to ignore.
For the main course I was a tad conservative, choosing Beef Stroganoff (thoughts of steak tartar with real Russian caviar did flit briefly through my mind). My two children also went for beef dishes, Stu and Heather opting for a sumptuous-sounding St. Petersburg fillet steak with mushrooms in a rich red wine sauce and Helen having the beef fillet medallions sautéed in a bilberry sauce.
Memory lets me down here over Danny's choice (blame that on the many vodka shots which seem to be coming my way).
The staff noted the merriment and jollity coming from the Reade table, along with constant shouts of Na stroya! as each shot was drained. We finally fell out of the restaurant close on 1 a.m. and made our wavering way to Stuart's car, at peace with the world. One member of the party did keep her wits about her, namely mother-to-be Heather, who'd wisely abstained and was now our driver.
Now you would think that with all the good food, good wine and exquisite vodka and Slivovitz your humble correspondent would have been feeling rather the worse for wear the next day. Not at all, although I did find a mysterious bruise on my arm.
Perhaps it was because I was dancing with the coat rack on the way out, or the strain from raising so many glasses of ice-cold vodka, or possibly the shock of seeing the bill. Who knows? Who cares? All in all, a great evening and a wonderful vacation with my beloved family.
When I arrived home, more change awaited. I has flown out on October 23, when the Triangle Mall was still standing. On my return I saw a shell, with more pieces coming down every day and safety fencing everywhere.
Also, to my shock, I found out that quite a few retail establishments had gone the way of the Dodo bird, namely Mystic Garden, Pig Feathers Market, Cibo con Amici and, sadly, the Rusty Duck. I can't say I was that familiar with the first two places, but my family and I have dined out quite a few times at the latter two. Our choices of good eateries are now much more limited, and although I wasn't a huge fan of one of the afore mentioned restaurants, I'm saddened that our circle has shrunk.
car dood wrote on Feb 7, 2008 9:31 AM:
Cassidy wrote on Feb 14, 2008 7:15 AM:
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