Brassaii (★★)

I last ate at Brassaii only so that a thief could absquatulate with my dear bicycle. I returned this time more fortified in mind but mostly with a larger lock. Notwithstanding the unruly part of town, it is a comfortable enclave on King Street West. It aptly held the Monitor “Dean’s List Reception,” a.k.a. ‘recruiting event’. Indeed, this restaurant screams ‘Monitor’. The plaid-shirted representatives fit in so perfectly. I stayed behind after the session for dinner with non-Queen’s friends. The food is a confusing one-size-fit-all approach, a shotgun that doesn’t really hit the nouveau-riche French image it contends for. My pasta sat under parmesan, so gratuitously plopped on and concentrated in the centre. And the toppings, however unremarkable they were, came so infrequently that the whole dish tasted of monotony. For all the risks my poor bicycle was subject to, the reward just isn’t there.

$22 pasta​

Fifth Grill (★★★)

A hand-operated coal-mine elevator takes guests from the open (and surprisingly clean) club area up to a lofty boutique restaurant full of wood-tones and country-style décor. Our waitress was upbeat to the point of babbling ludicrousness, finishing long-winding tongue twisters in record time. She was an entertaining touch to this already eccentric experience. The food if could be described in one word would be bland. They were safe and uninspiring, though some citrusy flourishes were well founded in the salad and the chicken was well portioned. Altogether it was not an unsavory experience, much owing to the atmosphere, but it is no longer the Fifth Grill of Didier Leroy, Marc Thuet and J.P. Challet.

Oven roasted bone-in chicken breast    
Rosemary jus     25

Daily Salad           13

Carisma (★★★★)

Carisma on King & Church is a dark abode where time passes more slowly than its hectic surroundings. There is a solemn yet fantastical element respected by quietly whispering patrons. The charm is as simple as the waiter grating parmesan for a whole minute, patiently. The food is understated but grows with each bite. The peas seem so peasant-like but contribute a slight bitterness and single-handedly foment a silent uprising: it begins with oozing cherry tomatoes in a violent red, moves to the chewy mushrooms and ends with a chicken with tasty burn marks. It could have done without the olives, which overpowered each bite they participated in. But they can be easily identified and summarily exiled. Only halfway through the meal do you notice yourself entranced by the food and the atmosphere. What a fine escape from high finance.

Fusilloni alla Katarina: Fusilloni, Sweet Pea, Smoked Chicken, Rapini, Sundried Black Olives, Mushroom, Aglio Olio ($18)

In keeping with the tradition established during Summerlicious ’12, I will be giving ratings to restaurants I dine at. These ratings range from 1 to 5 stars and take into consideration food, service, atmosphere, price, etc. These ratings will  be preliminary, or perfunctory for that matter (stars in brackets) until three items from the menu have been tasted  (again, in the tradition of Summerlicious). You will still be best served reading the description instead of simply relying on a rating.

Trattoria Nervosa (★★)

It was fitting to dine at the sister store of Gusto for a direct comparison only one day apart. Nervosa is almost a fixture of Yorkville, an unpretentious trattoria with reasonable prices. Lines on a Wednesday night show the restaurant’s mass appeal. Diners are tightly seated in open-window room that forgoes air conditioning in favour of a desultory breeze. It’s a nice vantage out to the realm of the well-to-do, a wonderland of snazzy cars, sundresses and yellow-brick homes. With such a light-hearted atmosphere, it welcomes anyone looking for a quick bite. Unfortunately, the similarly playful service became too casual to bear. Unhearing, oblivious and brash waiters talk over diners and suggest clicking the “first one [button]” when allocating the tip (it was 15%, a few percentage points too generous for the rude performance). The primavera pizza is a favourite but managed to be slightly soggy and thus not ‘spring-like’ at all. This was an unfortunate occurrence; every restaurant has its bad day.

Primavera (Pizza): Tomato sauce, fresh mozzarella, spinach, roasted grape tomatoes, grilled zucchini, taggiasch olives $15

In keeping with the tradition established during Summerlicious ’12, I will be giving ratings to restaurants I dine at. These ratings range from 1 to 5 stars and take into consideration food, service, atmosphere, price, etc. These ratings will  be preliminary, or perfunctory for that matter (stars in brackets) until three items from the menu have been tasted  (again, in the tradition of Summerlicious). You will still be best served reading the description instead of simply relying on a rating.

Hemingway & Gellhorn: Writers are the best lovers

Perhaps the film should have been named Gellhorn & Hemingway instead of the other way around. Not just for convention but for that this television-movie is really about Martha Gellhorn, Hemingway’s lover from the Spanish War through to the Second World War. The film tries to free Gellhorn from the “footnote” that she is to Hemingway’s life. And if not a footnote, she is one measly dedication in the preamble of his most famous book, For Whom the Bell Tolls. The film’s success, then, was portraying Gellhorn as independent, vivacious, humanist and altogether more respectable than her lover. And while their lines never live up to what such versed writers might have actually said, and notwithstanding some confusing details and questionable art direction (changing from black & white to colour and back), the movie was wildly interesting and even thought-provoking.

The first theatre is the Spanish Civil War. Gellhorn is there as an up-and-coming war journalist with a genuine desire to enlighten the world. Hemingway’s motivations are less clear. Perhaps it was to chase Gellhorn, away from the scrutiny of his uptight wife; or perhaps for adventure and to indulge his masculinity.

The Spanish Civil War (1936-1939) was the prelude to the Second World War where the belligerents could be roughly divided into the Franco-led fascists and the revolutionary socialists, though the divisions were much clearer in the Russian Civil War. The left was a hodgepodge of anarchists, socialists, communists and Basque separatists. The right comprised of fascists (Falange – from “Phalanx”), royalists (Alfonsists, Carlists) and Catholics (JAP). And although the war itself had only a perfunctory ideological division, the politically charged times inspired much foreign support. Hitler, Mussolini and Russia each backed his appropriate side. And in an unprecedented reaction to Fascism, volunteers from the enlightened world came to support the left (cue Gellhorn & Hemingway).

The war is historically significant in two ways. First, it was the first time for Total War, where civilians were at risk. Previously, it was easy for pacifists to detach themselves; after 1936, this was impossible. And with civilian involvement comes atrocities like Hitler’s bombing of Guernica, a story famously told by Picasso’s painting (his collection is currently showing at the AGO, as I witnessed last weekend and had no meaningful understanding of). Second, it was the first time war was documented so vividly (again, cue Gellhorn & Hemingway). These two significances combine for some vivid storytelling.

​Guernica, Picasso 

Atrocities continue, through Finland (1940, “Winter War”), China (the Japanese vs. Chiang Kai Shek vs. Mao), Normandy (D-Day, 1944), Vietnam and so on. This is unfortunate for the world-at-large but it gave Gellhorn a purpose (and a lot of material). She is the quintessential social impact writer. Arguably, all writers should subscribe to this title. As writers lead the way the world thinks, they have a moral responsibility to morph readers into more caring, sympathetic, worldly, accepting individuals. And while Hemingway might do the same, it does not show in character. Thus this movie glorifies Gellhorn at the expense of Hemingway. It puts Gellhorn on a pedestal and worships her much to his discontent. He commits suicide; she continues to write. But it all falls apart when Gellhorn’s interviewer asks her how she feels about her “debt” to Hemingway. This is not to insult Gellhorn; it is simply to show the audience how notoriety is often unfair and unjustified.

A final thought: My favourite quotation in the film is "Happiness in intelligent people is one of the rarest things I know." But seeing these two eloquent writers share a love story prompted that clarity of expression must be such a desirable quality in relationships. If communication the sin qua non of relationships then writers (and orators, and so on) must be the most desirable. It’s a shame Gellhorn & Hemingway did not last. Why not? I can’t say I have the credibility to guess. 

Why it pays to be a grammar Nazi

I've recently become interested in ​writing and grammar, not least because I must maintain this blog. I will begin by saying I am a (mediocre) student of English as evidenced by my amateurish writing. (I once received a lvl 5 in IB English and had it remarked to a slightly more desirable lvl 6.)  One recently developed hobby is to read the Economist style guide http://www.economist.com/styleguide/introduction. It corrects some commonplace mistakes as well as warns against stylistic ones. (Note that the previous sentence has one such commonplace mistake, i.e. using warn as an intransitive verb. The writer must always specify who is being warned. Indeed, the Economist warns writers.)

There are a few reasons why this is a relevant pursuit. First, our language is becoming increasingly meaningless. Expressions such as "to beg the question" are being bastardized. It used to describe an argument that pre-supposes a conclusion, a useful phrase in intellectual discourse. Now it is just a fancy way of saying 'raises the question'.

Second, grammatical writing shows thought was put into the work. In a recently blog post, the singular company "Progressive" continuously flip-flopped from being plural to singular and back. (http://sethgodin.typepad.com/seths_blog/2012/08/corporations-are-not-people.html). It really does not give the reader much confidence in the writer's arguments (the arguments were, as expected, weak as well).​

After reading many broker reports (mostly in FIG), there are a few errors that stand out. First, research analysts love using the word "impact" as a verb. Nothing is ever caused, created, influenced or made anymore. It's simply "impacted". The other one is the difference between due to and because of. Due to describes a noun whereas because of describes a verb. I first heard Mr. Jim Cramer speak of this distinction. It is important. How many times have you heard "We modestly reduce Q3/F12 EPS estimates due to noted headwinds"? Well you reduced it because of headwinds. However, this is okay: "We continue to project solid loan growth of over 10% due to acquisitions, with 6-7% loan growth projected in Canada." Here, the loan growth is attributable to acquisitions. 

With that said, the people who write these research reports are extremely intelligent and I respect them wholeheartedly. These mistakes certainly do not detract from their eternal wisdom.​

Hatfields & McCoys (Miniseries): United States on the Verge of Greatness

The Hatfield-McCoy feud is an oft-forgotten vestige of American History, at least to a euro-centric student of history like me. The miniseries is an authentic Romeo and Juliet story: Hatfields and McCoys are feuding families intertwined by love, desertion (Civil War), wealth and death. The cause of the conflict is unimportant. Long-time friends, the patriarchs of their respective families, go separate ways as the Hatfield deserts the Confederate Army to begin a lucrative logging business while the McCoy becomes the sole survivor of his regiment and the suffers in a Union prison. McCoy sees Hatfield’s commercial success to his own suffering and takes it onto himself to do God’s work to rectify the supposed injustice. As the Civil War ends in 1865, the embarrassed and blood-thirsty southerners redirect their anger at each other.

Hatfields & McCoys is a story about escalation, where trivial matters compound into interstate “wars,” where human nature takes revenge too seriously and refuses to forgive and forget. The three-day series gets progressively darker and bloodier. Casualties of this frivolous scrimmage pile up quickly. There is plenty of gratuitous loud-banging, sure to please the thrill-seeking variety, especially those with an affinity for Westerns. It is also quite romantic; the archetypal story of forbidden love is well-told though perhaps the added romanticism was the producer’s attempt to inspire mass appeal. The actual story was probably much less idyllic.

The real reason to watch this miniseries is for its historical accuracy (it is, after all, produced by the History Channel). The setting shows a tumultuous time in the 50 years prior to the modern era. Technological inventions, electricity for example (the lady McCoy asks not to be cremated but to be treated with electricity, whatever that might mean), are set to supercharge America into the 20th century. Social systems (judicial, political, and others) as we know them today are nascent yet immature. (In a show of true American idealism, both sides of the dispute claim the higher moral ground, and often justify their own actions on a pseudo-lawful manner; they often play judge, jury and executioner.) The institution of a united states is forming but is inefficient. (Families lie on either sides of the “Tug Fork,” the division between Kentucky and West Virginia and thus require extradition, lest they take law into their own hands.) And finally, we see a beginning of an interconnectedness (globalization, in today’s business-speak) where the feud becomes a national sensation and executions draw out adrenaline junkies from far and wide.

If this miniseries is accurate, it suggests the late 1800s were a rather brutish time. Lives were so easily lost and wasted. It is surprisingly encouraging how much our social institutions have changed since then. As for the human nature, well that clearly hasn’t changed very much.

Gusto 101 (★★★)

This King Street West outgrowth of Yorkville’s Nervosa is a bustling forum for suited professionals and hipsters alike. Both Gusto and Nervosa are easy-going but Gusto is a flamboyant ‘joint’, not unlike a rowdy bar to Nervosa’s café feel. A harsh industrial tone surrounds this up-and-coming neighbourhood. The waiters are dressed in t-shirts and jump hurriedly between flirtatious couples (of all ages). It is so edgy and noisy that conscientious food tasters might quickly become disoriented. The food is similarly forward. My rustic-inspired order was a tripartite of spice-crusted chicken, roasted potato and sautéed spinach. Big flavours vie for dominance on a miniscule plate but it is the perfectly cooked quarter chicken, cut-through as nonchalantly as the rest of the dish that takes prominence. And the commotion continues in your mouth as the Moroccan spices dissolved so richly into the skin hit higher and higher notes. The potatoes and spinach serve as a palate cleanser, a mute to this cacophony. The entire experience is numbing and even unbecoming at times. But it serves a purpose. It is welcome sometimes, just not all the time.

Brick Chicken - Moroccan spices, spinach, toasted sunflower seeds, crispy potatoes, red wine reduction 19.95.

In keeping with the tradition established during Summerlicious ’12, I will be giving ratings to restaurants I dine at. These ratings range from 1 to 5 stars and take into consideration food, service, atmosphere, price, etc. These ratings will  be preliminary, or perfunctory for that matter (stars in brackets) until three items from the menu have been tasted  (again, in the tradition of Summerlicious). You will still be best served reading the description instead of simply relying on a rating.

Toronto: Another Confrontation on Bike

Biking home from a pleasant dinner at Le Paradis, I encountered quite the disagreeable individual, perched upon a mountain bike, wheels of gargantuan proportion as only seen from Wal-Mart or Canadian Tire. I interrupted his jaunty but effortful sidewalk crossing with my right turn, to which he exclaimed in a most cantankerous voice “the light is red!” Yes, the red light was mine but I was turning right. And there were neither cars nor pedestrians to yield to. There was only the self-affirmed rider on the wrong side of the street, occupying a pedestrian crossing.

His raspy voice and glaring eyes held me at a standstill. I questioned my lawfulness and self-worth. I apologized for tempering his lively commute and only a bit later did I realize my mistake in apology. If only humankind was less sure of itself, we would see ourselves so much further. If we first considered our own actions before judging the actions of others, we could achieve so much more. 

Olympics 2012: Modern Day Belligerence

I prefer to list by Total Medals, as it helps Canada more than any other country. Indeed it helps Canada improve its ranking by a whole 17 levels. The next country to have this benefit is Germany, but only by five ranks. For the record, the Olympic Committee orders by Gold, then Silver, then Bronze. This year, it makes no real difference as the United States won both measures. At the last Olympics, it was quite different. China was christened the champion by IIOC standards but NBC ratings showed US in the limelight for most total medals. The proper way to conduct a ranking like this is probably to weigh each medal by some factor that takes into account the additional difficulty of attaining top spot. The difference might be a lot as in the stratosphere, any movement is quite challenging.

View fullsize

Medal Table​

The top six countries were the main participants in the Second World War; four are on the UN Security Council and the other two should probably be indicted as well. France is the only laggard by this measure (placing 8th) but it’s been in a sad state ever since Napoleon (and to say the French contributed to victory in WWII is a bit of an exaggeration). And something must be said for the United States, which defeated China resoundingly and took home 9 more gold medals than as predicted by Goldman Sachs. Stripping away home-field advantage the Chinese had (which according to GS, improves gold medal counts by a whopping 50%), it is still clear who the world leader is. It is a shame such a naturally talented, motivated, entrepreneurial and idealistic state is currently led by morons.

And there is something further to be said about the American culture of athletics that is neither obfuscated by governmental tinkering nor tunnel visioned solely on a number (of gold medals, that is). With that said, criticism of communist-style athletic gulags fails to take into account the difference in privilege amongst the countries and ignores the cult of athletics that America is guilty of as well. There is significant pressure placed on North American athletes too, which is why Hockey Canada ran an “It’s just a game” campaign. And the rewards, from Ivy League admissions to social validation, are enough to pump out aspiring, steroid pumping amphibians.

In a post-war world where pent up nationalism can only be expressed through some other form of interaction, the Olympics are a peaceful solution to a pervasive problem. In a replay of World War II, the victor nations again defeated Germany and Japan. If the Olympics is what we need to avoid irrational jingoism, then so be it. 

Suits: set close to home but far from great

Suits shows the extravagant side of courtroom dramas, showcasing type-A corporate lawyers save high-octane businesses bundles of money. Unfortunately, it doesn’t serve a much greater purpose than that.

A nice touch is its being filmed in Toronto. A friend of mine took a picture of the hotdog scene where spoils of the previous night’s labours were being divvied between drug-dealer Trevor and then then-fraudster Mike Ross when an envelope clasping Harvey Spector enters, only to be ridiculed for his success by the antiestablishmentarian youth. “If I ever look like that, shoot me,” says Mike Ross, ironically. The scene was filmed outside the Munich Re. Centre on 390 Bay Street with the iconic Seven Eleven on the southwest corner of Bay & Richmond duly noted. Elsewhere in the episode, Harvey interrupts Louis’s obsessive stares at a co-worker in Mercatto, the Bay & Adelaide location with the restaurant’s name still on the windows. 

(See video @0:21)

​Filming in Toronto

The series is fun and lighthearted but it falls apart way too often. For example, Mike has a connection with his date’s roommate, Jenny, when the two recite lines from A Few Good Men. The movie is a courtroom drama but the allegory ends there. Mike murmurs under his breath, “I love you,” wishing his date was instead with Jenny. Yet by the end of the night, Mike appears to have forgotten his earlier revelation and asks to go home with Nikki, with who after a full three course meal the dull conversation still relies on Mike’s eidetic memory. As expected, the relationship goes nowhere as Nikki asks Mike to write her LSAT’s. His actions are inconsistent and therefore not believable.​

(See video @ 0:49)

Then there is the pragmatic and uncaring Jessica Pearson who ruthlessly fires Monaca for her innocent relationship with Daniel Hardman. The reason was no more than that Monaca was on the “wrong side.” Why Harvey and Mike seem devoted to such a heartless creature relies solely on their own well-being. This transactional nature of the show creates loose character ties and underdeveloped personalities centered around careerism and self-adulation. It also halts the Corporate Law profession to a standstill. It would be nice for Mike’s apotheosis to serve a greater purpose but the cases are increasingly one-dimensional with little societal impact. So while the show is a great fun to watch, it won’t win any awards.​

Fei Cheng Wu Rao: “I'd rather cry in the back of your BMW than laugh on the back of your bicycle”

Fei Cheng Wu Rao attracts fifty million viewers an episode. To be sure, the premise is problematic. One suitor stands to be scrutinized by 24 sirens, sometimes desirable and always cruel. Unlike the Bachelor, there is no prospect of commiseration. Defeated candidates, who might not be tall enough, old enough or most likely, not wealthy enough, take a walk of shame off the stage. The only consolation is that he signed up for it.

The show first piqued my interest after reading The Economist’s special report on China’s economy (http://www.economist.com/node/21555762). Bicycles are being replaced with cars, the ultimate symbol of wealth in an up-and-coming society. “I'd rather cry in the back of your BMW than laugh on the back of your bicycle,” quoted the article from the TV show. The only thing that could have added to the stereotype is if she specified the BMW was coloured white. The communist government has since stepped in to reform the lewd show. Totalitarianism has its benefits, I guess.

This Sunday, I decided to watch an episode, mainly because it was to be the first Canadian edition. Contestants from both sexes were flown in from Canada, though the contestants were certainly more Chinese than Canadian. I was hoping to see some people I could relate to. There were med-students and pseudo-financiers. There was even a teller from RBC. Yet the defining characteristic of all contestants was the resounding idiocy, the unscrupulous distastefulness of the comments, the nonchalance for what will be broadcasted so thoroughly through the airwaves and the indifference to the stereotyping of an already derided nation and its people. For that to happen in a show where the principle allegiances are Chinese and Canadian, the two I associate myself the most with, is disconcerting.

To begin, a Chinese vice-delegate encourages cross cultural pollination from her perch at the downtown T&T supermarket (funny enough, owned by Loblaw), a vessel for non-assimilation and group-think.  It was the locale of a President’s Choice sponsored night market, where stinky tofu is ubiquitous and personal space absent. Behind her aptly stood a York University filming van. Then the Canadian imports were introduced. The most colorful self-proclamation was by a 37 year old who referred to herself as a beautiful woman. The modesty didn’t work; she was turned down by essentially every suitor. And so the show began with much ego and twisted smiles as the women looked upon the entering men. Only one successful couple arose.

The first suitor was unanimously rejected for being a bit uptight and nervous. He seemed like an Asian version of Barack Obama in composure. What a shame that was. A bumbling Martial Artist came next, to whom one lady questioned why someone so active could have such saggy pectorals. Poor guy. A rather well liked suitor turned down six women to have a chance with the one he eyed down from the start. The women sang praises still (they repeated the same Chinese adjective, which probably best translates to “excellent”) yet his actions could not have been shallower. Perhaps they were impressed with the ice wine he brought. Or maybe by his ability to sing an English song!

A couple of generalizations came to the forefront, including that Chinese Canadians tend find themselves in fields of Finance or Medicine. That might be true but not one was a real financier (or a real doctor, for that matter).  The real financiers (or real doctors) would not go back to China on a whim. How disappointing how the Canadians might be viewed in China. How disappointing how the Chinese might be viewed in Canada.

The solace is that this show was not actually conceived in China. It was invented in Australia and now has a counterpart in the US (“Take Me Out”). The difference, however, is that the English-world versions are comedies. They are light-hearted, less judgmental and less scathing. Also, they only attract something like three million viewers. Why then does a program that shows such failures of the human condition gain such wide acceptance in China? Why does it turn so serious?

It might be from the superiority and inferiority complexes that have developed in a nation that was one so powerful, then fell into a state of disrepair and now is challenging for supremacy again. I had hoped that the Canadian edition would bring some enlightened contestants who had already escaped the trials and tribulations of the mainland and could bring some much needed grounding to this popularity contest. I will not allow this show to ruin my forever optimistic view of humanity and have no doubt that the contrived producers will do anything to raise ratings by employing the least inspirational contestants. It goes without saying that I would discourage anyone from being one of the fifty million who seek comfort in this dismal show.

God Save the Queen: A Report on the Brits

I watched the academy award winning film The Queen, tracing the life of the monarch Elizabeth II from the election of Tony Blair to the tumultuous death of Princess Diana. I watched it because Britain is at the forefront of current events. Earlier this year, the same Elizabeth celebrated her diamond Jubilee and London is currently hosting the Olympic Games.

I must begin by asserting that I am a monarchist. As I said in a previous post, as much as people like an underdog story, people simply are more envious of those who have always been successful. The film itself stands for the monarchy. A humble, idealistic but slightly naive Tony Blair is a modernist proposing the most radical shifts in the constitution in history and does not give full credit to the Queen until the death of Princess Diana, the youthful and cavalier divorcé of Prince Charles. The stoic, old-fashioned and graceful Queen underwent unfathomable pressures to reconcile her dislike for Diana with the general public’s love for what they called People’s Princess. The result was the Queen having to sacrifice her traditional values to pacify her people, for which Tony Blair finds respectable. You would think Tony Blair would side with the Princess. Instead he sides with the Queen. “I don't know why I'm surprised. At the end of the day, all Labour Prime Ministers go gaga for the Queen,” says his vocally anti-monarchist wife.

You cannot help but feel sorry for an anachronistic Queen (for whom Tony Blair was the tenth Prime Minister sworn in) who fears she does not understand her people. She was brought up to value modesty and dignity. The post-war era characterized by the rise of the United States and decolonization at the expense of Britain’s empire created such a somber atmosphere in a nation reminiscent of past glories. Even the Olympic ceremonies showed the Brits as simpletons, snarky in humour yet not easily humoured. They are known for boring Stonehenge and the metallic roar of the industrial revolution. Indeed the overcast nation is depressing. Yet as Canadians, we can relate to Britain’s quite leadership. To begin, the Brits have a smaller percentage of their total medals thus far as golds than anyone else in the top five. The Canadians have zero golds out of seven medals. As Conrad Black frequently comments, Canadians are boring, which means we have not experienced any wars (on Canadian soil), natural disasters, genocides, famines, revolutions or any of the like. And while the Brits have certainly seen more interesting days, their country has dulled to a hum.

Yet let us not forget the significance the Brits played in history and today. Firstly, Britain had the largest Empire ever known to humankind (to put it into perspective, a quarter of the worldwide population bowed to one monarch). As such, they are the originators of the Anglosphere, a group of the world’s most successful nations united by a common tongue, allowing for vast globalization to take place. The only two other “spheres” that exist are the Sinosphere and the Indosphere, which when added together, is not as significant. Secondly, Britain has been the shaper of history for the last millennium. The last two world wars were a battle between Britain and Germany for European supremacy. Britain rushed to France’s defense in 1914 to hold the line and outlasted the Germans in 1940. Between Britain and Canada, three of the five beaches of Normandy were landed on in 1944. And they fought for the right reasons: liberty, freedom and democracy. Britain can hold its head high with few ideological blemishes.  

What is not to love about a monarchy that has survived for the last thousand years and effectively shaped the modern era. It symbolizes an empire that has continued and thrived like no other. And for the Brits to celebrate this success without the pretentiousness of the French, the flamboyance of Spaniards or the gluttony of the Italians is truly admirable. As the Queen might say, it is quietly modest and dignified. The punch-line is that Diana in her anti-monarchist appeals was neither yet engendered so much respect. How could the Brits who seemed so mature act like children, weeping at the death of a stranger. How could a country with such a history wish to subvert tradition (e.g. put the Union Jack at Buckingham palace) for the death of someone no longer a part of the royal family?

Well let’s not lose hope yet. The approval rating of the Queen is still higher than that of most politicians. As Blair said, any plan to abolish the monarchy is “daft” (what a great British word!). The monarchy is in the blood of the Brits. The came off the righteous pass a bit to show they had a rebellious side to them, not unlike a teenage revolt. This does not change the fact that the Brits are the wittiest and funniest people in the world. They’ll laugh it off and sing God Save the Queen to all the few gold medalists there are.

There is something to be said about quiet leadership. We don’t have enough of that in the world. That’s why we need the Queen.

3Q Summer 2012 – Anything you deserve should not make you happy

The final month has begun and many things are going well. Demands of the job have settled down and Summerlicious went better than planned. Academically, my paper Skunk Redux will be published in October 2012 and I have maintained my standing.  And considering the tumultuous summer of 2011, the YOY figures are robust. Yet it is clear that I have not caused any achievement since January 2012. Summerlicious is certainly no accomplishment, my paper has been due for a year and my academic standing was more or less the result of Comm 190. Interesting in the world of GPA, success will be determined by a few highly exclusionary courses.

Happiness must weigh effort (cost) versus achievement (benefit). You can always work a little harder to get a little more. But does that make you happier? I’d argue no. So happiness might stem from outsized benefit for what little effort you put in. If you could achieve the same thing but one scenario requires five years instead of three, you’d likely choose the three. You’d likely be much happier. That is to say anything you deserve should not make you happy.

This brings up the question that what is really earned? I owe much to society, upbringing, socioeconomic status and luck. What I do myself is actually a very small piece of the pie.

The realization is that I am only happy (for now) because I have achieved a return greater than the normal rate of return for my effort. Yet I suppose it is simply a fact of life that returns are affected by things completely outside your control. So not to be defeatist, I will conclude to say that a sure way to be unhappy is not to try and regret it latter.

Breaking Bad is a Modern Day Shakespearean Tragedy (S05E03)

It is no twist of chance that Breaking Bad will have five seasons, the fifth one elongated to span two years instead of one. For six seasons wouldn’t be very Shakespearean. Act three had Jesse’s climax which was his murder of Gale, Walt’s fungible replacement in that only one can survive. Jesse pulls the trigger with such reluctance. He is so teary eyed and discomposed that it is he we feel sorry for, not Gale. At this point, we celebrate Gale’s death as it means Walt may live. Walt is still the tragic hero whose cancerous outgrowth is eclipsed only by a disheveled socioeconomic status and paraplegic son.

This all changes by act 4, the hero’s downfall. He succeeds to eliminate Gus from the equation but he devolves and is dehumanized until the last scene when he is revealed to have poisoned the child of Jesse’s love interest. The fourth season ends with a full cast of unlikeable characters, none of whom the viewer can feel the least bit sorry for (with perhaps the exception of Jesse). This is certainly not a feel-good TV series. It is a dark comedy that reveals the worst in everyone. It is overwhelmingly defeatist.

Walt’s dehumanization is continued into the first two episodes of the fifth and final season as Walt’s ego is further developed. In the third installment (Sunday, July the 29th), Walt orchestrates Jesse’s breakup with his girlfriend, using the departed Gale so remorselessly as leverage. But for the poor viewers who see the deadly spiral Breaking Bad characters have become, they will be happy to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

Jesse, who is best described as Walt’s antithesis was stupid when Walt was smart and now the two have their roles reversed. It was Jesse who thought of using magnets to erase Gus’s incriminating computer and it was Jesse who offered to pay for Mike’s “legacy payments” (to keep imprisoned past-associates’ mouths shut). Walt, who is uncomfortable letting Jesse take the higher moral ground, capitulates and offers to pay his share too. The things he will do to console himself (another nice one was when he has a soliloquy to an unspeaking Skylar about how family is an end that justifies the means).

And while Walt’s finishing speech about how pawns overreach might be construed to be directed at Mike, I am convinced it is actually directed at Jesse. For while Mike and Walt are really quite similar – they just don’t see it yet – Jesse is really an angel born into poor circumstances.

Recognized by Biff's Waiters (and perhaps Maitre D')

I am ever so flattered to have been welcomed to Biff's by waiters who knew of this Summerlicous blog and slightly embarrassed to have only given it three stars. Oh, Biff's...you have truly inflated an undeserved ego and encouraged more glutinous behavior (I say that with an unabashed grin). I returned three times since Summerlicious, if not for the food, then to solidify my goodwill toward Summerlicious participants. Biff’s has a wonderful “buck per shuck” promotion, that is, every oyster costs only $1. They start the oyster countdown at 5pm (they have either 500 or 800, depending on the day of the week, I believe). The first two times, I went too late. Tonight, I ordered the octopus salad and snuck in an order for six oysters. The reprise was very good, making clear Biff’s culinary aptitude notwithstanding the Summerlicious showing. And for $26, the dinner was a steal not unlike last time. 

​$1 per oyster after 5pm, while supplies last

Batman: The Dark Knight Rises

As inspiring as a rags-to-riches story may be, it does not sell in Hollywood. Instead, superheroes like Batman and Ironman are born into wealth and use it in noble ways. Nobility has always been and always will be respected. That is because as moving as a turnaround story is, it is simply much more enviable to have always been successful.

This is particularly relevant in a politically charged film as Batman. There perhaps is no other trilogy that is as current (http://www.economist.com/blogs/dailychart/2011/07/film-franchises). Bane stages a revolution more like a beer hall putsch than a barricaded Paris. The 1% are put on summary trial then executed. Bane’s allies are the victims of the disgraced Dent act. Why Bane, who must mask his injuries sustained from other thuggish inmates with a constant supply of pain killers, would free such criminals is mind boggling. He also has a pretentious accent and a rather intellectual syntax unbefitting of his burly character.

Gotham City is clearly New York City and any movie with such setting would not be complete without poking fun at financiers. “There's no money for you to steal [in the stock exchange]!” exclaims a trader, to which Bane replies, “Then why are you here?” The nice thing about Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings is they espouse love and courage in a world different than our own. It is then more universal. Minds are allowed to wonder and imagine. Unfortunately, Batman has no similar effect. It is inseparable from real world, and in particular, New York City.

The climax of the film is when Batman makes a leap of faith to escape the cylindrical water-hole he is imprisoned in. Christopher Nolan does well to overlay scenes from the Batman Begins, for young Bruce Wayne’s journey began much the same way, trapped in a well full of bats. The first time, young Wayne was presumably helped out. The second time, Alfred leaves out of love (though ‘atonement with the father’ is in the penultimate scene), forcing Batman to fend for himself. This closes a nice circle with the three films as Batman returns to the ‘real world’ in Hero’s Journey fashion.

Failure after failure, Batman trains harder to escape from his prison. He is only able to after giving up his safety rope. When failure is not an acceptable possibility, determination takes over and wins the day. And with both the mental and physical boot camp under his belt, he is able to best Bane in the final battle. Unfortunately, Bane only loses because of his disability so we aren’t so sure about giving Batman full credit.

The final twist is another archetype, the seductress, who is revealed to be more connected than anyone else. But this third film on its own does not establish her as particularly trust-worthy (though she was described twice to be “lovely”) so her backstabbing is really not much of a value-add.

And while the visual spectacle is as good as any, the IMAX experience was unfortunately unwound by the many scenes that were not filmed in IMAX. The incessantly change in aspect ratios was annoying.

This overly lengthy film hides Batman too much and Bane is no Joker. But it certainly is worth watching to finish off the triology.

Le Paradis

​I have seldom been so impressed by a restaurant. Le Chien Noir has met is match in Toronto. Like Chien Noir, Le Paradis is homely, undiscovered and well-priced. Its unassuming character (it is situated a few steps away from a “Le Subway”) is what gives it its charm; it’s sufficiently close to Yorkville but far enough to lose the fancy cars and Justin Biebers (he was apparently at the Hazelton, adolescent girls adding to the fanfare).

The waitresses speak French and have no reservations of correcting mispronunciations of the menu. They also don’t lose the efficiency and slight air of pretentiousness that characterises Paris’ bistros…wonderful. In fact, French seems to be the language choice among the patrons. (I only found out it’s Le Paradis and not La Paradis because our neighbour said “Au Paradis” into his phone).

The food is fantastic. They have recently changed to printing menus daily. The way the French make steak-frites should really make ubiquitous steakhouse chains think twice. They have reduced it to a formula: a microwaved bun, a Caesar salad covered in bacon, Parmesan and heavy dressing (that has been sitting in a bottle for a year), and finally, a ridiculously thick piece of meat accompanied by either super-crunchy fries or a potato with mounds of cheddar, butter and sour crème. $40.

The steak-frites at Paradis sat in a tasty but not heavy peppercorn sauce. The sirloin was the proper size and texture. It was pan-fried, not grilled and properly seasoned. The fries were done right: thin, firm and in thyme. My lamb shank literally fell off the bone and was similarly light and tasty. The chickpeas in its tastelessness balanced the other flavors well.

In previous occasions, I have had the pork chop and the chicken, all under $20. The chicken was sizable. The pork chop was as good as pork can ever be.

As much as I would like this place to become more notable, I am also cognizant that its charm also originates from being hidden from the masses. It lets you be transported to a place far from home. I have a hope that this is what Paris might turn out to be in 2013.

Gabardine

Gabardine tries to transport tightly wound and weary eyed bankers to more passive times. The tiny outpost on Bay Street is an anachronism to the nearby high-rise towers and high-octane bars and grills. The name refers to the tight fabric found on Burberry coats; the references to the industrious working class of Great Britain are uncanny (ploughman’s lunch - $17). The waitresses dress in eccentric, flowery dresses and some are nicer than others. I had the sautéed bc black cod with braised lentils and mushrooms ($24). The lentil sauce is unapologetically flavorful and glazes the delicate black cod. Other menu items are less pricey and less healthful, as a throw-back to British fast food. The feel is between wayside diner and bed & breakfast.

Un-Canadian on Canada Day

Canadians take out their flags (on their roots backpacks) when they leave our borders and quickly hides them upon return. You might not know it was Canada day as Euro cup fans, attached either ethnically or culturally, waved green and yellow. The Italians gave away one-fourth of the Spanish Bank bail-out and four rather graceful goals this month. The Spaniards needed it.

For my Canada Day, had the option attending a Jay’s vs. LA Angel’s game in some of the nicest seats in the skydome. I wore a new Swiss-red shirt for the occasion. I like baseball because it is interesting and not too serious. Yet there was nothing but seriousness for the fans. The Canada Day celebrators were especially un-Canadian as they boo-ed Stephen Harper, the opposing team and our own pitchers.

The fans erupted with discontent at the sight of Stephen Harper (they were much less dis-satisfied with the subject Stephen Harper was introducing, the Canadian Army). Why the stadium was so against a Prime Minister that represents the majority of Canadian voters and that has done a good job leading Canada out of the recession is beyond me (http://fullcomment.nationalpost.com/2012/06/30/conrad-black-the-end-of-canadas-love-affair-with-the-un/). Why the stadium seems so content with our armed forces yet discontent with their greatest sponsor is dichotomous to say the least. I imagined the game taking place in LA but could not imagine the fans boo-ing Obama. I must say, this is a poor showing on Canada Day.

Then there were times where the crowds would berate the opposing pitcher for checking runners at first and second. This is an important function to ensure a less of a lead-off. Indeed it could be the difference between hitting third and scoring. The rudeness displayed by a country that proclaims to be polite is astounding.

Finally, a Jay’s reliever allowed two home runs in one inning. He was effectively boo-ed off the stage. They say sports bring out the best in people. It certainly doesn’t bring out the best in the fan(atics) who effectively turn their minds off for three hours and subject themselves to crowd mentality. A little more solidarity for Canada’s only major league baseball team on our national holiday would have been appreciated.