Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Music ... it's complicated


I love music. Most of my entertainment revolves around it - music festivals and gigs are frequently on my social agenda. But don't really know much about it. Some people will go as far as to say that I know nothing and have horrible taste in it too (Lady Gaga does fascinating videos OK!!) And like most women who are drawn to bad boys, I also have a penchant for musicians. I know this because many of my friends have musical talent and I have had a few musician boyfriends along the way. Mostly drummers I might add. Apparently it has something to do with the fact that us chicks are drawn to drummers because it's primitive - they bang stuff. Lately though, I have noticed a trend towards guitarists, which could be rewarding as apparently they are dextrous with their fingers. This has yet to be proven, but in the meantime I thought it was time to up my groupie status and improve my musical knowledge by attending a band practice.

So on Monday night I arrived at Monster's house with a homemade cottage pie (I had to bribe my way into this sacred inner circle) and was stopped dead in my tracks at the gate. The dreadful squealing of guitars eminating from the house almost had me run home to eat potato and mince on my own. Whilst watching 30 Seconds to Mars and perving over Jared Leto, of course. Band practice indeed, they needed it alright! Thankfully during the course of the evening they improved. It could have had something to do with the fact that I was sneaking in tequila shots whilst they practiced the same song about six times.

Here are some musical observations I made that evening:
  • These guys put their songs together in pieces, not all together in one room at one time. The keyboardist does her bit, then the guitar chaps do their part and then it gets recorded so the drummer can do his thing. This can all take months to achieve and once it comes back to the beginning, it is highly likely the whole piece would have been forgotten. Blame is dished out frequently.

  • Lead guitarists are often very bossy. Women should note this if you are ever attracted to a lead guitarist.

  • Guitarists in the band often expect the keyboardist to perform miracles. This was explained to me using food. Frequently they expect her to make butternut soup out of potatoes. I love it when people simplify things.

  • It is not a base guitar, it's a bass guitar. I have caught a bass. It's a fish and it looks nothing like a guitar with four strings.

  • On that note, perhaps women wanting to go for a rockstar should go for lead guitarists, not bass guitarists. One of them is dextrous with six strings and the other four. But then you may have to put up with bossiness. Perhaps find a bass guitarist that has a bass with six strings.

  • Even though you don't play a guitar using your legs, if you have an injured leg it is going to hinder your playing and cause you to leave band practice early. However, the rest of the band may actually request that you leave as the smell of Deep Heat is distracting.

  • Preferably be in a band where everyone smokes, or no-one smokes. Those that don't smoke are going to whine about the amount of smoke breaks being taken. Especially if the non-smoker is the lead guitarist.

  • Being able to drinking copius amounts of beer or wine when in a band is prerequisite. In fact band practice is often held for the sole purpose of drinking.

  • If groupies/girlfriends/boyfriends/lovers decide to attend band practice they had better be prepared to listen to the same song over and over, even if it has an acid version, an acoustic version and an unplugged one. If they ever have a gig, I will be right up there in the front when they play Opus. I know it intimately.

  • As the guest, they will be determined to impress you. So you will be asked all sorts of questions about the songs. Don't say that the song sounds like a particular band, otherwise you will have to sit through their other songs that they feel do in fact sound like said band. And if you are unable to pick up the different riffs or when the other guitarist comes into the song, you could get handed an earbud to clean out your ears.

  • Being a rockstar is quite hard work and requires dedication. Rockstar behaviour on the other hand also requires dedication, but is much more fun.

So that was my very first band practice night and it rocked. OK, it did get a bit boring sometimes, but then I had tequila to distract me. I was also introduced to doom metal. It was nothing like I thought it would be. Wikepedia (yes, I looked it up!) says "Both the music and the lyrics intend to evoke a sense of despair, dread, and impending doom". I quite liked it actually. Watch this space, I could yet become a "doem slet".

All in all a fun night with Monster, Rose Thorn and TDB who are a group of highly talented people. I felt a bit inadequate. But I also have my talents. I was instructed to bring my own instrument to band practice. A violin preferably. After much consideration I decided a violin was going to be difficult to acquire let alone play. So I pitched up with my favourite party instrument ... a bottle of tequila. It had four strings on it, so it counted.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Tequila - you can cook with it too!


 There are many things I could blog about right now. But I don't feel like it. And I still haven't done that man list either. However, I am beginning to wonder if there are actually any real men out there. I could be wasting my time. A friend of mine said the other day "Men - these days they are the ones with vagina's".  I think she's right. But I am not going to blog about that right now (oh but I will, soon).   So in the meantime - now that I have caught your attention by talking about men and vagina's - here's something else you can do with tequila other than drink it...

This recipe comes from my good friend  the Weekend Wizzard, who happens to also be Mom Friend's husband.  He's a brilliant cook and whilst I am a little bit miff that he never invited me around for this dish, I am going to promote it anyway because anything involving tequila should be promoted. Besides, he probably knew that I would just polish off the bottle.

Bon appetit folks! I suggest you sip on a glass of Patron whilst you cook ... and give me a call to join you. I could add to the showstopping bit.  But I can't bring the Patron as I drank that already.

Lamb Fillet flambed in Tequila with Chilli Potato and Butternut Wedges

This lamb fillet flambeed in tequila with chilli potato and butternut wedges is definitely a showstopper for your next dinner party. 

Ingredients
1 to 2 lamb fillets per person
Potatoes cut into wedges
Butternut cut into wedges
Baby button mushrooms
1 tspn chilli flakes
1 tspn wholegrain mustard
Olive oil
200ml tequila
1 poached egg per person

Method
Place butternut and potato wedges in a plastic bag, add olive oil and chilli, shake well. Bake at 180 C for 40 minutes. Roll fillets in olive oil and wholegrain mustard. Add mushrooms to a pre heated pan and fry for a minute, and then add fillets. Add tequila and flambé. Serve with wedges and poached egg.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

The patron of Patron



I couldn't believe my luck when I was invited by Journalist Friend to the launch of Patron Silver on Thursday night. The fact that it was a Thursday night should have put me off, but considering that Thursday is the new Friday, I accepted the invite/challenge with glee. Besides, R80 a shot tequila being handed out for free is not to be scoffed at. It's to be quaffed, with gusto. And appreciation, of course.

7.10pm:
Picked up Journalist Friend. Who warned me that she wasn't keen for a late night. Why do people always say that when they going out with me?

7.20pm:
Arrive at the Penthouse Suite off Loop Street and after 3 attempts manage to park the car. I also attempted to run over the car guard.

7.25pm:
Enter the building and discover the lifts are not working. Eh?! Penthouses are on the TOP floor!! Journalist Friend most unamused as she had pulled her calf muscle and could barely stand, let alone walk up stairs. Luckily the lifts were sort of working. Between the 2nd floor and the 5th floor. Penthouse was on the 7th floor.

7.30pm
Arrive, gasping, at the venue. Dead on time. And dead early seemingly. Head to the bar.

7.40pm
Armed with our first margarita we head to the infinity pool. En-route is a bar made out of ice. With Patron emblazoned all over it. I just had to lick it. The barman pretended not to notice and Journalist Friend walked really fast to the edge of the pool and dug in her handbag.

8.15pm
By now we've taken photos of the fabulous views, swished our hands in the pool water, aaahed at Table Mountain, made rude comments about the other guests swanning around and have tried every combination of Patron there is. We start wondering where the snacks are. Canopes to be precise, which we were supposed to get upon arrival. I am of the opinion that we should have gotten a free bottle of Patron on arrival. And I let everyone know. Loudly. 

8.25pm
All the margaritas have hit my bladder and it's time to find the ladies. There was only one bathroom and it took me five minutes to figure out how to lock the door. I then realised that the loo didn't flush. One loo, lots of people, free tequila. It could spell disaster. Another five minutes to unlock the door and then I tell the ladies wafting around in white to fix the loo. I also asked if I could get a bottle of Patron as a reward for pointing out what could have been an epic posh party fail. I was firmly told that no bottles of Patron were being handed out and was ushered to the bar. 

8.45pm
Snacks have finally arrived and we sit contentedly munching mini chicken burgers. The DJ played his set and speeches were given. Still no sign or mention of goodie bags with a bottle of free tequila. Disappointing.

9.20pm
Time to have a photo taken. Journalist Friend was not so keen, so I went on my own. Margarita-infused-bravery has its merits. The photo made me look quite fabulous (good photographer) and feeling quite proud of my achievements I decided I should be in everyone else's photos as well.

9.30pm
After successfully photobombing the beautiful people's photographs, I give the bar another lick. And gave the barman one too.

9.40pm
I spot a lone bottle of Patron. The nice dark chocolatey-coffee one. All on its own and just within reach.

9.45pm
We leave the party and I smugly clutch a now much-heavier bag.

No-one invites the Tequila Tart to the launch of a tequila and gets away without giving her a bottle to take home.

Postscript:
I never made it home with the bottle. I popped in on Monster on the way home and somewhere between 10pm and 4am the bottle of Patron was emptied by a group of very appreciative people. Judging by the fact I could only go into work at lunch-time on Friday, I have a feeling I emptied most of it.