Monday, July 31, 2006
Sciue - Pender & Howe
Italian style bakery, serving bread with pizza topping - I believe I had the Pane Romano Salmone, which was filled with smoked salmon, cheese. $3.00 per 100 gram. Actually, the menu is fairly extensive. Check out www.sciue.ca.
The good - patio sitting, ideal for people watching.
The bad - not a fan of the cafeteria-like line-up, don't care for waiting in line but this place is quite popular.
The ugly - a couple days later, saw some Tourette-syndrome guy swearing up a storm in front of the bakery and he had to be strong-armed off the premises.
The good - patio sitting, ideal for people watching.
The bad - not a fan of the cafeteria-like line-up, don't care for waiting in line but this place is quite popular.
The ugly - a couple days later, saw some Tourette-syndrome guy swearing up a storm in front of the bakery and he had to be strong-armed off the premises.
# posted by Mr Foodie @ 2:17 AM 
Comments:
<< Home
I like your invocation of The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, a film that takes me back to 1968 when I was younger, so much younger than today, a time when I would emerge from a movie-house after watching Clint Eastwood in a spaghetti western and for a few minutes would become Clint Eastwood as I walked along the sidewalk. I glared through slitted eyes at guys on the street to let them know I wasn’t to be fucked around with. I exuded menace and invincibility. There wasn’t anyone I couldn’t beat to a pulp at a moment’s notice. But soon this feeling would wear off and I would resume my normal shambling guilt-ridden eyes-cast-downwards gait.
1968. It seems like yesterday. It was the year Martin and Bobby were gunned own; the year of the Tet Offensive; the year of the riots at the Democratic convention in Chicago; the year the Soviets invaded Chechoslavakia; the year Booker T and the MGs came out with “Time Is Tight”; the year Glen Campbell sang “The Everyday Housewife”; the year Jose Feliciano brought out his version of “Light My Fire”; and of course the year the The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly was released in its English-language version. Incidentally it should have been called The Good, The Ugly, The Bad (Il buono, il brutto, il cattivo).
To see any of the spaghetti westerns, particularly The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly was nothing so much as an experience in itself. The films took their time and made me feel as if I was actually in the dessicated cactus-strewn deserts and in the gulches. I could feel the heat and the flies and the inchoate brooding atmosphere of violence that could break out at any time when Clint Eastwood and Lee Van Cleef were sizing each other up. I particularly loved the Ennio Morricone musical scores with their heavenly choirs, plaintive harmonicas, bells, rattles, and huge langourous orchestral themes that so perfectly captured the atmosphere of the American West of so long ago. Whenever I now see photos or paintings of scenes from the Civil War, I never fail hear inside my head the strains of the mournful “The Story of a Soldier”.
Nothing could be more removed from the world that is modern urban Vancouver, where the men are mostly politically-correct metero-sexuals, and the only notable historical artifact is the Bow Mac used-car sign on West Broadway, and where, to alleviate boredom, we can watch the rats as they laze insouciantly under the noon-day sun on Granville Island, and where no-one knows what happened the day before yesterday.
Is it any wonder that we turn to Clint Eastwood, Lee Van Cleef, Eli Wallach, Sergio Leone, and Ennio Morricone for comfort and succour?
Post a Comment
1968. It seems like yesterday. It was the year Martin and Bobby were gunned own; the year of the Tet Offensive; the year of the riots at the Democratic convention in Chicago; the year the Soviets invaded Chechoslavakia; the year Booker T and the MGs came out with “Time Is Tight”; the year Glen Campbell sang “The Everyday Housewife”; the year Jose Feliciano brought out his version of “Light My Fire”; and of course the year the The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly was released in its English-language version. Incidentally it should have been called The Good, The Ugly, The Bad (Il buono, il brutto, il cattivo).
To see any of the spaghetti westerns, particularly The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly was nothing so much as an experience in itself. The films took their time and made me feel as if I was actually in the dessicated cactus-strewn deserts and in the gulches. I could feel the heat and the flies and the inchoate brooding atmosphere of violence that could break out at any time when Clint Eastwood and Lee Van Cleef were sizing each other up. I particularly loved the Ennio Morricone musical scores with their heavenly choirs, plaintive harmonicas, bells, rattles, and huge langourous orchestral themes that so perfectly captured the atmosphere of the American West of so long ago. Whenever I now see photos or paintings of scenes from the Civil War, I never fail hear inside my head the strains of the mournful “The Story of a Soldier”.
Nothing could be more removed from the world that is modern urban Vancouver, where the men are mostly politically-correct metero-sexuals, and the only notable historical artifact is the Bow Mac used-car sign on West Broadway, and where, to alleviate boredom, we can watch the rats as they laze insouciantly under the noon-day sun on Granville Island, and where no-one knows what happened the day before yesterday.
Is it any wonder that we turn to Clint Eastwood, Lee Van Cleef, Eli Wallach, Sergio Leone, and Ennio Morricone for comfort and succour?
<< Home
