Mumm's the Word

Linda and I stumbled by chance upon a new wine bar, The Hidden Vine and we're glad we did. You wind your way down a staircase to a cozy retreat that feels a bit English--a sort of pub/parlor/hunting lodge combined. I often find wine bars a bit uptight, but not this one. David (in the pic above with Linda), who co-owns the wine bar with his wife Angela, was a charming host who made us feel right at home. The Hidden Vine features a different region each month and Thursday night is free cheese board night. A selection of South African wines are available in May. Visit their website for details.

If the Shoe Fits

It’s no secret that I love shoes. Cowboy boots, kitten heels, hot pink Chuck Taylors, you name it. But my friend Gabey has a love for shoes that borders on obsession. Plus she has the most amazing taste and she'll stop at nothing to find the perfect pair. Wherever she goes people are forever craning their necks to get one last glimpse of her shoes or asking her where she bought them. We're all very lucky because she just launched her first blog, The Shoe Must Go On, where she'll be featuring her favorite finds. Better make room in your closet...

Save the Date

Who knew that sitting down to create a quick Party Playlist on iTunes could be fraught with such peril or pose so many--if not philosophical, at least debatable--questions, such as: If you could only choose one early Britney Spears' tune, what would it be? Baby One More Time or Oops!...I Did It Again? (Baby One More Time). Is The Mars Volta a bit on the somber side for cocktails? (Probably). And finally, would the entire Funeral album be too much Arcade Fire for one party mix? (The jury is still out.) Fast forward to two hours later when I realize that the Party Playlist is now an ungainly eight hours long and I'm reminded that in fact I do need to eat and that actually there is no party because I haven't set a date yet. I'm going to go read a book. A Tale of Two Poohs, in which two Poohs become entangled in the French Revolution and...well, let's just say it doesn't end well for one of them.

Rent Control

South Park pulls a Charlize Theron for Chris Colombus's film adaptation of "Rent." (SFist)

Cover Up

The always generous Stereogum has posted The Shins' cover of Magnetic Field's Strange Powers.

They are on top of your head.

Saturday night Chris and I stopped by Spec's, a North Beach bar which my former roommate Charlie used to haunt back in the day. It has quite an interesting history and is the closest thing to dive-y that I know of in that vicinity. Add in a nice mix of regulars plus a stellar bartender who refused--without being obsequious about it--to let us pay for our drinks and you have the perfect neighborhood watering hole.

Good Enough?

I'd be a total geek if I went to this, right? Forget I said anything....

Get TRASHed

Raise money for recycling on Thursday at The Mighty's "TRASHed SF" which features musician-designed recycling bins, plus drinks, music, etc. Get the details here.
(via Flavorpill SF)

Leave the (Lamp) Light On

"I care more about thinking about things than making things. If I had to choose I would rather--if I could only be a reader or a writer, I would rather be a reader. It’s one of the things I value most in my life," says Jonathan Safran Foer in today's interview with The Morning News. I couldn't agree more. I'd give up just about everything else before I'd give up books. Speaking of....last night I started reading Nothing to Declare: Memoirs of a Woman Traveling Alone by Mary Morris, which my friend Gabrielle gave me. The first few pages aptly describe arriving in San Miguel for the first time. Although my visit was probably about fifteen years after hers, that fuzzy, overwhelmed state of being somewhere that's nothing like what you expected and everything you never knew you wanted, resonated with me.

Pope and Circumstance

I'm not Catholic, but I must say that I find all the tradition and symbolism around the election of the new Pope quite fascinating. Then there's the constant barrage of news on the future Spederline spawn. (Some say coincidence. I say queue up Carmina Burana...)

On Being Thwarted & Great Expectations

When I studied photography in high school I coaxed photos out of an old black and white camera with an upside down viewer. Now I have a state-of-the-art digital camera and I can't seem to get it to do what I want. So this is my pathetic attempt to show why I love the view at night from my new apartment.

Linda and I are on Craigslist this morning trying to get tickets to one of The Shins shows in Portland on May 15 and 16 and the scalpers are, of course, trying to charge us three times the ticketmaster price. So, if you have two extra tickets and you want to sell them for their purchase price, let me know. We'll also buy you a cup of coffee!

Saturday Joel, Nicki, their one-year old, Lily, and I headed sixty miles north to Redwood Hills Goat Farm in Sonoma County for their annual Spring Farm Tour. Lily loved the goats and we loved the coat cheese. Our guide was Derek who'd arrived from Poland a month ago with a degree in Biotechnology and only three months of English. He gave us a great tour and got to hone his conversation skills. The farm is also open for tours on May 7 & 8 and June 4 & 5. Bring a baguette and picnic in the back of the farm on a hill overlooking a fantastic view. If you get there around 1pm, you can watch them feed the baby goats with a bottle.

My sister and I still haven't bothered to get our keys copied--we'd rather spend the time sipping espresso at Caffe Greco or enjoying oysters at Hyde Street Seafood House and Raw Bar. So late Saturday night, due to poor planning, I spent a cold ninety minutes on the stoop outside of my apartment, where a drunk ex-convict kept me company. He talked non-stop the entire time. Can you believe I did not get in a word edgewise? Not that I even bothered to try. His life was about fifty times more interesting than mine--I mean he was in prison for eleven years. He was innocent though. I will be getting keys made today. I have high hopes that one day when I least expect it, my education as a barrister will be secretly funded by a stealthy sort just back from making good in Australia.

Song Bird

Andrew Bird reveals the "10 Songs or Albums that Still Bust my Bunker." (Pitchfork)

The Sweetest Thing

Let's talk Chocolate. Saturday was my first visit to the Ferry Building Marketplace which is nothing less than a foodie heaven on earth. After a decadent lunch of Manchego and Brie, there was no turning back. We headed to Recchiuti Confections to sample ten of the finest chocolates this side of France. My favorite was the Ecuadorian, but truly they were all divine.

Jeannette Winterson's US tour dates don't include a stop in California. You can read her April column here.

Bird by Bird

"Boys are like birds," say Amy Helmes and Meg Leder. Wonder which bird you're nesting with? Want to seek out your dream bird in his natural habitat? Get all the answers in their useful new book Boys of a Feather: A Field Guide to North American Males, available June 7th. Plus: Take the quiz to find out which species of featherhead you're attracted to. (Apparently I have a proclivity for the swan, which explains my longstanding crush on ballet dancer and noted narcissist Mikhail Baryshnikov.) Anyway, Amy and Meg have a wicked sense of humor and I guarantee that reading their book will be a hoot.

All Lit Up

Ian McEwan talks about the war and his novel Saturday in Salon.

Jonathan Safran Foer will be at the Corte Madera Book Passage on Monday the 18th at 1pm.

Charlotte Brontë : Sex obsessed spinster? (via Arts & Letters Daily)

Take the Guardian's "Fooling Around" quiz and see how clever you are about literature's most famous pranksters and jesters.

Living in a powder keg and givin' off sparks

So I made it out of L.A. in one piece. Though I went out with a bang or, as Amy put it, "One more week and we would've had to stage an intervention." After four weeks spent partying instead of packing, three late night trips to In-N-Out Burger, two harassed bouncers, and one sick day later, I'm back in SF and loving it. This morning I walked through Chinatown on the way to my office. Yesterday I wanted to hug everyone in the Mission, crack addicts included. Although I miss my L.A. friends dearly, it feels good to be back. Unfortunately I'm connected to the internet by way of a squeaky dialup right now, so a 1000 word essay on the entire catalog of Ioan Gruffud-starring Horatio Hornblower films (which Amy and I managed to squeeze in over the last few weeks), will have to wait. I know you're on the edge of your seat.