Les Miserables

Les Miserables is one of those sacred shows for me. I first saw it as a seventh grader in St. Louis, on a French class field trip. My kid sister was born months earlier so she effectively spent her first five years as my own private audience for various Eponine/Fantine Broadway fantasies. The music remains cherished in my family. As is always the case, a lifetime of love makes a person a harsh critic. And as I've never seen the new staging of Les Mis, I was both excited and wary of Hennepin Theatre Trust's run of the show. But my concern was ill-placed.  If anything, I'm left wondering what it is I loved so much about the last staging. The new staging is tighter, cleaner, and more intimate.  While I found the former spinning stage centerpiece in the old staging novel, I never missed it in the new. The play of lights and backdrop provided the necessary movement for periods of transition and the use of shadow and single, direct illumination at key moments proved visually and emotionally powerful. Almost every major character's vocal performance was stunning, with only Marius proving to be a bit weak in certain points.  But even his performance, which was somewhat whiny and unmanly to me on the whole, brought chills during Empty Chairs at Empty Tables. Played by Devin Ilaw, Marius seemed to age and deepen in that one song, haunted by his fallen comrades.  Apropos for the story, of course, but I would have preferred a bit more of that depth early on. Fantine's heartache was the most palpable for me, her staccato sung statements perfectly balancing with the violent desolation wrapped in I Dreamed a Dream. Her love for her daughter and her desperate attempt to provide for her are tearjerkers, so come prepared. Les Mis is not Les Mis without a gut-punching Valjean, and Peter Lockyer delivers. Those who've seen the recent movie will recognize their Valjean, shaved, scarred head and all, at the play's beginning.  Valjean's transformation, his struggle to both escape and embrace his identity, feels organic and lushly defined.  Every note, every word flows from a real, identifiable personality onstage. Part of this is to the credit of a beautifully written book and characters developed over years and years of musical workmanship, but much is owed to the actor embodying the role. Lockyer expertly delivers the humanness of our hero, a broken man who clambers out of a bed of unfair consequences to attempt a life worth living. But the revelation to me in this show was not Valjean or Fantine, beautiful performances though they were.  Javert was the killer for me.  This could be personal as I've honestly been dismissive of Javert.  He has always felt like a cookie-cutter tightly wound bully of a bad guy and that cookie-cutter nature made him boring.  But Andrew Varela's Javert is awe-inspiring! His guttural-without-being-growling tone provides the perfect canvas upon which one paints the opposing forces working in these men.  For the first time, I felt truly sorry for Javert, and ached for his confusion upon Valjean's dismissal of him as a man "just doing his duty." A pursuit of justice is certainly a noble duty and Varela expertly walks that line of a man both driven by and enslaved by his sense of righteousness. Whether you're a newbie to the Les Mis experience, a recent fan of the movie, or a long-suffering devotee who knows every word to every song like myself, this performance provides all the dark, heart-wrenching, tear-soaked power that you desire. It's a do-not-miss. Follow me on Twitter @TheMinneapolite

Corner Table

Ever since I tried their pate in gougere at the Summit Sausage fest this winter, Corner Table has been on my hit list. Life being what it is, I've been too busy poking around elsewhere to make good on that commitment.  But Restaurant Week is a great time to fulfill those gustatory obligations, and I made reservations at Corner Table weeks in advance to make sure I didn't miss out.

I wish I could say I was tempted by all the appetizer choices. The others were beautifully done (my table companions had one of each, the gnocchi and the bean salad), but when I see the words, "pork belly," the decision-making part of my brain officially retires. And the icing on the cake was the accompanying chow chow.  I've loved chow chow for decades, and think of it most fondly as the mustard-y pickled condiment we pick up at roadside stands in East Tennessee, on the way to meet family tucked into those mountains. If Corner Table had simply offered a bowl of their chow chow and a biscuit, I probably would have left a happy camper.  The pork belly had a perfectly crispy outer layer, providing just the right stiffness to counter the moist interior.  The salty (not overly so) bite of belly was balanced by the sweet brine of the chow chow and the surprise of the chile vinaigrette made me sad to note we'd finished off our bread. I would have gladly sopped up the remainder of soupy goodness with a slice. 

I chose the lamb ragu as my entree, again with little trouble deciding.  The salmon with braised fennel would have been a lighter choice (and it looked lovely on my friends' plates), but I don't get lamb often and marathon training makes justifying pasta very easy. The fresh peas and ricotta were a bright, light balance to the richness of the lamb and made me wonder what else I could throw into a pot with those ingredients. Sometimes, I think I love a restaurant most when it etches inspiration in my head. Ricotta and lamb and peas...filed away for further experimentation.

The finale was decadent and beautiful. Sweet potato donuts were paired with a smear of molasses and a lovely cup of dunk-worthy toffee cream. In my just-a-person-who-likes-to-cook-and-eat-good-food-but-in-no-way-formally-trained opinion, people don't do enough with molasses. That deep, dense, nearly-salty molasses flavor was only lightly hinted at in this plate, but the smear was a perfect companion for the sweet, sweet cream and fluffy sweet potato pastry. A lovely finish to a lovely first (and certainly not last) meal at Corner Table.

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Morrissey's Irish Pub

Another new spot on Lake popped up while I was looking elsewhere. Next door to Spill the Wine and kitty corner (kinda) to Bryant Lake Bowl, Morrissey's Irish Pub is a welcome addition to the Uptown food landscape.  

Popping in at 5:30 on a Thursday, I expected to find more Uptowners kicking off their weekend with a pint.  But the restaurant wasn't crowded, just a solid handful of folks at the bar and a few other couples here and there wandering in for a bite or a beer. 

Several draught choices, including solid local favorites like Indeed's Day Tripper and Fulton's Sweet Child of Vine, made for easy pickings beer-wise. Morrissey's is a whiskey bar, but I didn't test any of their offerings this time around.  The heat seemed to call for beer and tall glasses of ice water. 

We started with the smoked salmon bites appetizer, which was a great, light way to kick off a shared meal. If I'd been dining alone, I could have easily (and happily) eaten this dish as my entree. Four boxty (that's thin, crispy potatoes, like a really flat and stiff hashbrown) are topped with smoked salmon, capers, and a horseradish sauce. If you're looking for an easy starter to share or a lighter meal, this would be a solid choice.

We then split the Irish breakfast, which included everything you'd expect of a respectable breakfast dish from the Isles, eggs, bangers (sausage), potato bread, chips (that's fries, y'all), grilled tomato, beans. The breakfast is served all day, so feel free to indulge in your breakfast hankering at any time.  

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Rosa Mexicano

Restaurant week is always a bit overwhelming. Where do I go? What do I try? So I'm always grateful when someone else makes the decision for me. Together, a group of us ladies decided on Rosa Mexicano in part because there was a solid vegetarian choice for the veggie-lover among us and because it's hard to go wrong with a margarita on a Monday. 

My first impression of Rosa is that it is HUGE. I'm not sure if that's how all the locations are or if this was just a consequence of the space available. The sheer number of table space within and outside on its patio makes it hard for me to imagine this place ever really filling up, but maybe downtown Friday and Saturday nights are more raucous than I'm envisioning. With a solid Restaurant Week offering and a respectable happy hour menu, I was surprised that the restaurant wasn't busier at 6pm.  Despite our being a party of 5, I imagine we didn't really need the reservation. We could have easily acquired a table by wandering in. 

Unlike many Restaurant Week menus, Rosa offers a list of four categories within which you pick three: appetizer, entree, drink, dessert.  This is a great deal, really, especially if you're traveling in a crowd.  We ended up getting a double batch of the tableside guacamole and an order of queso to start and we all enjoyed our margaritas as we nibbled before the entrees arrived. The guacamole was wonderful, and I appreciated the additional sauce sides so that I could up the spice level to my liking. The queso was less inspiring (although I ate plenty of it), but I've never been a huge queso fan.  I would have been happier with a bowl of that chorizo. 

I ordered the carne asada tacos and wasn't disappointed. Served with sides of a thinly creamy roasted corn dish and soup beans (and black beans and rice served family style), the steak was tender and flavorful.  It was served over a melted cheese that seemed out of place.  If there's cheese on a plate in front of me, I will eat it, but I would have happily welcomed instead a bed of peppers or onions instead of the cheese. 

Our server was helpful when it came to decision-making and had several recommendations we appreciated. She did note, however, that Restaurant Week provided a great deal on the steak tacos as they're normally over $20.  I doubt I'd pay over $20 for that dish again.  But it would be worthwhile to split some guacamole and an entree.

There were several things on the menu I'd happily try (mmmm...plantains...) and I think Rosa would be an excellent place for a happy hour, so it is filed away for future use.  If you're curious about the place I'd definitely recommend taking advantage of the Restaurant Week menu, hard to beat a drink, entree, and appetizer for $30 a person. And if you're lucky enough to bring a date, one of you could get an appetizer and the other a dessert and share like the smart, restaurant-hopping couple you are. ;) 

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Pride and Prejudice

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a blogger with bookshelves overflowing with classic literature would be hard-pressed to keep her trap shut about Pride and Prejudice at the Guthrie. Celebrating the Guthrie's 50th Anniversary with a loving tribute to the 200th anniversary of the publication of Austen's most famous work makes for a double whammy of warm fuzzies.

As with any beloved piece of literature that has been reworked and reimagined onscreen, any production would battle the impressions left of other interpretations. The brooding scowl of Colin Firth's Darcy and the more recent Keira Knightley-led version are images heavily buried in many Austen fans' minds, for better or worse.  But the Guthrie delivers a sprightly-paced, snarky, sumptuous (so much alliteration) rendition that valiantly captures much of the spunk of Austen's famous heroine.

Lizzie, played strongly by Ashley Rose Montondo, may be central to the play's unfolding, but her dialogues are not the most interesting.  The first bit of bantering between her and Vincent Kartheiser's Mr. Darcy aren't as acidic as fans of the novel might like.  It's difficult to catch Darcy's feelings for Lizzie in the first scenes, his statements of attraction to her eyes fall a bit flat.  Darcy's tone borders on petulance in the first act, which is reminiscent of Kartheiser's Pete on Mad Men. And my familiarity with that show may color how I feel about that level of petulance from Austen's imperfect hero. But I think part of this is owed to the difference between stage and screen/imagination. Where a film (or the mind's eye) can capture the brooding stare of a shadowy hero, the stage is much less forgiving of that type of self-indulgence.  The audience isn't likely to engage with Vincent Kartheiser's Darcy staring gloomily off into space and automatically embrace the idea that he's brooding about our dear Lizzie.  Such is the hurdle Kartheiser and Montondo have to overcome, and it's a hurdle they both clear by the second act. As the events unfold, we grow more fond of the misunderstood Darcy and we grow more understanding of Lizzie's having misunderstood him in the first place.  As truths are shared, feelings explored, we do root for these lovers.

Amidst that cheerleading is, of course, a colorful array of brilliant performances by the supporting cast. Suzanne Warmanen's Mrs. Bennet and Peter Thomson's Mr. Bennet are a fantastic, hilarious couple and provide raucous and acerbic (respectively) wit to counter the brooding emotions of romantic turmoil. Kris L. Nelson's icky, oily Mr. Collins provides the perfect foil to Mr. Darcy, casting in stark relief the differences between Lizzie's choices in a mate. And Thallis Santesteban's Mary Bennet (she also plays Georgiana Darcy) is a low alto, deadpan comedic joy amidst her giggly throng of sisters.

To add to the hilarity, when I attended, dear Mr. Bingley, played by Hugh Kennedy, accidentally split his pants during what was assuredly a moving proposal.  It may have lost a bit of its emotional power, but it made up for it with peals of laughter from the audience and a squeal of shock from Christine Weber's Jane (which would be appropriate for her character undoubtably).  The joy of live theater, indeed!

Given Mr. Kartheiser's Mad Men fame, I expect this run will sell out often, and rightly so. Kartheiser and company make for a wonderful homage to Austen's dearest couple and whether you've a bit of a literary crush on Mr. Darcy (I'm not the only one with literary crushes, right?) or you just like a good dose of British snark, there's a seat with your name on it at the Guthrie.

Pride and Prejudice runs through August 31st.

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