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Monday, November 14, 2005
Take your best friend to Hell’s Kitchen
Have you eaten at Hell’s Kitchen? You should. This treehouse treasure of Red River Street looks over the patio at Headhunters and offers surprisingly tasty food with a tiki flare. Hell’s Kitchen is pet and smoker friendly; the decor is Gilligan glam. Last Tuesday a friend and I shared a giant spicy chicken bacon sandwich and pineapple glazed eggrolls and escaped for under 10 bucks, minus tip. They even brought a bowl of water for my pooch, proving despite the tough name these natives really are friendly.
Now it’s your turn!
In my last blog I revealed my musical trinity (Johnny Cash, Lou Reed and Mitch Ryder) and now I want to know yours. Who are the three bands or artists you hold above the rest? Can’t pick just three? Give me five. I would have added Leonard Cohen and Lux Interior to my list with Nina Simone coming barely missing the top 5.
So sock it to me and I’ll list a random selection of entries on tomorrow’s blog!
Permalink | Comments (11) | Categories: By Rhiannon Gammill
(Bloody) Tears of Joy
The pantheon of my musical religion is guided by a holy trinity of artists, Johnny Cash, Mitch Ryder and Lou Reed — so talented and innovative, it’s rare for me to compare any modern act to their legendary ones. So it’s with great gravity that I say The Bloody Tears is the closest I’ll ever come to seeing Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels circa 1965. These guys are trouble; all sharkskin soul with a powder keg punch that’ll knock you out and leave your tail feather shaking long after the set is done. Their next show is at Maggie Mae’s on Dec. 17 and I highly recommend it.
That being said I feel it’s my journalistic duty to reveal The Bloody Tears’ harmonica player Randall “Freaklip� Stockton has given me beer. In fact, he gave me my first beer.
Back to the days of yore (2002) a wide-eyed blogger set out one Saturday night and made her first excursion to the happiest place on Earth: Beerland, Texas. Back then I was but a foolish creature who did silly things like arrive at places before midnight and wear open-toed shoes in the presence of drunken guys in boots. The bar was nearly empty and armed with nothing but a charge card, and naïveté, I sidled up to the bar and asked for “a beer.�
“What sort of beer?� asked Randall.
I didn’t know. I had been put off by beer since I was 16 and did a tour of duty in a house full of German physics students who brewed their own stout in the tiny shared kitchen and filled the house with awful smells.
Back to Beerland. Randall set out a dozen little cups and proceeded to fill them with anonymous beers while I chose my favorite from each group. After several minutes of sipping (and one outburst of “why?! why would you give that to someone?!) I decided on the one I liked the best; a creamy Guinness stout, thick as sin and twice as heavy. I ordered a pint and thanks to Randall, started what I hope to be a long and glorious career in the imbibing arts on the right, albeit inappropriately shod foot.
None of this has anything to do with his performance as part of the Bloody Tears, but I’d like to think it speaks to Randall’s nature and exactly how far he’s willing to go to ensure folks have a good time; a passion the entire Bloody Tears ensemble seems to share.
Permalink | | Categories: By Rhiannon Gammill
