At the Pink Martini show, the extremely long line waiting at the will-call window offered several reasons for Thomas Lauderdale's success. Only Pink Martini would have its record release at the Schnitzer and be able to draw such a giant, diverse and, most significantly, well-dressed crowd. Lauderdale is a gifted pianist and musical arranger, but he's also an exceptional organizer--sending postcards, designing posters, arranging for personal phone invitations to both the show and the after-show party at Zefiro. Some people know how to work a room; Lauderdale knows how to work a city. (In the auditorium, the drink line and the bathroom I kept overhearing conversations between people who knew Lauderdale personally.) He has also organized his band, drawing together an exceptionally talented group of musicians. The crowd, enthusiastic throughout, was especially appreciative of guitarist Dan Faehnle and of Gavin Bondy and Robert Taylor on trumpet and trombone, respectively. The concert celebrated the band's debut CD, Sympathique, named after a song on the album co-written by Lauderdale and slinky singer China Forbes (who, bravely considering the crowd, appeared on stage in fur). But it also recognized what a presence this band has become, playing at countless benefits and events that have remained memorable long after the cocktail craze faded. After the concert, a decked-out crowd at Zefiro drank all shades of martinis (the restaurant even ran out of martini glasses briefly and some had to be served in wine glasses). I have a famously awful memory, but I do remember the first time I saw Lauderdale. It was 1993 and I had been given Chamber Music Northwest tickets to a show at Reed College. They were bad seats--behind a pole, very hot--so I read the whole program, which noted that after the intermission, a young pianist from Harvard would play Carnival of the Animals. The accompanying picture showed such a funny little face, ringed by a fringe of white hair, that I decided to stay after intermission. I told people afterward that this was someone who would go places--I think I said he should take over for Paul Shaffer on Late Night with David Letterman. Now that doesn't seem like much. I've also suggested time and time again that Northwest cuisine is worthy of national attention, but it may finally have gone too far. Last weekend, I was served a "chanterelle cappuccino" in a coffee cup (a creamy mushroom soup topped with a dollop of sage cream froth). It tasted good, but the concept was horrifying. Portland's food world continues to boom. Brasserie Montemarte has a new chef, Pascal Sauton, and an updated menu. Sauton promises more changes by January, including, I hope, my favorite salad, a chevre chaud. A special meal to show him off was served a couple of weeks ago to select restaurateurs including the Archibald sisters--who are opening Cafe Azul next to the Pearl Bakery in early January--and Philippe and Susan Boulot of the Heathman Hotel restaurant, which is also planning major changes. A leek-and-truffle-crusted halibut with a butternut squash in a buerre blanc showed a welcome willingness to use butter. Finally, if you can't get yourself into the seasonal swing of things, I recommend a trip to the David Cole House on North Interstate Avenue. The house, surrounding trees and even some of the lawn are tightly covered by two million lights. I guarantee you'll feel thankful you didn't have to put them up. |
