Tonight, tonight

(with apologies to the Smashing Pumpkins)

I’m quite excited about tonight, as we’re secured tickets (via the medium of Computicket) to see Fascinating Aida at Camps Bay’s Theatre on the Bay (which is actually next to the bay and not on it at all).

If you haven’t heard of Fascinating Aida, don’t worry. I was in your situation until I got sent this video from some relatives overseas, last  year.

which had me in stitches.

And unsurprisingly, they’ve had some excellent reviews since coming over to perform in SA:

Tony Blair is a war criminal, Justin Bieber an amoeba and when shagging his four wives Jacob Zuma keeps out of trouble. Oh yes, and Herschelle Gibbs is a d**s. The ladies of Fascinating Aïda are not afraid to speak their minds.
This relentlessly funny and surprising show is performed by a trio of English women who drip with sarcasm and satire. They sing, they do something that resembles dancing and they break all conventions of how ladies should act.

Leave the prudes at home for a night of guaranteed laughs. A definite go see.

Sounds right up my street.

I’m told that tonight is sold out (as have several others). However, they are here until 5th March, so if you’re in Cape Town, do make an effort to see them.
Tickets via Computicket start at R100.

UPDATE: Brilliant. Simply brilliant.

Going Through Hell

Good advice from The Streets with the first single off their fifth and final studio album computers and blues:

If you’re going through hell – keep going

Even as a fan of Mike Skinner and The Streets, I have to admit that their last offering, Everything is Borrowed left me a little cold. It was light and airy without the grittiness of previous albums. And while the easy-going narrative rap was still there, the clever wordplay of their early days was missing. However, their previous work means that this new album certainly warrants a listen and I’m happy to report that if  this first release is anything to go by, then the witty repartee is back, as line after line from those motivational powerpoint slideshows your Auntie Hilda keeps sending you is nimbly delivered, urging the listener not to give up.
It could easily be a metaphor for listening to The Streets.

I’m further inspired by Skinner’s promise when discussing Everything is Borrowed was released, that:

The final Streets album (the fifth one) will be dark and futuristic. This could not be further from the album you’re about to hear, but it’s what is on my mind at the moment.

All of which sounds very promising.

computers and blues is released on 7th February 2011. Pre-orders here.

Pick n Pay Real Baby Range Review

Those of you who follow me on twitter may have seen my response to @picknpay‘s call for “Mommy Bloggers” to come forward and review their newly revamped and relaunched Real Baby range of baby products. Anatomically, I don’t actually fit the bill as a Mommy Blogger, but since I have small children (Alex, 4 and Kristen, 2) and I blog, the anatomy bit is the only missing piece and so I laughingly volunteered my services. Fair play to PnP’s social media gurus for breaking the mould and including a *gasp* (sometime) Daddy Blogger on their panel of reviewers. It remains to be seen whether their online audience will believe a word I say though.

A couple of months on and we’ve been enjoying the Real Baby hamper that PnP sent through for us. I was actually just expecting a few nappies, but we got literally bags of stuff, including nappies, baby lotion, vaseline, aqueous cream, soaps, shampoo and cotton wool in several different (but all useful) formats, all packaged in a big white box which was immediately (and permanently) borrowed by my son and converted into a garage for his toy cars. Readers who have never had kids will not understand just how many different creams,  lotions and potions a small human requires, nor how many garages a toy car needs.

Now, at this point, I should inform new readers and visitors from the Pick n Pay website that I don’t tend to mince my words on this blog – “I say what I like and I like what I say” – and I do admire the bravery of Pick n Pay in including me in this review. But what became obvious as we got into using the products was that they had well-placed confidence that their range would meet my exacting standards (and those of my kids). I should also say that I’ve had no pressure from Pick n Pay to write anything specific or even anything positive about the products. In fact, I was told:

We don’t want a hard push for sales, just a user experience vibe.
Talk about it they way YOU want to talk about it.

Like I said – that’s bravery and confidence right there.

It seems to me that they have pitched this brand relaunch just right. It’s obviously aimed at the parents who have enough available money to go beyond the basic (read “No Name”) economy products, but who don’t want to spend extra cash (who does?) on the premium brands. Real Baby offers solid, decent, functional products without the bells and whistles, but without the hefty price tag as well. From that point of view, it’s might seem rather difficult to say anything hugely remarkable about the range, save for the exceptional value for money, but there are some products that really do stand out for us:

The Real Baby Nappies we are using are the size 5 (15-25kg) ones. Now, in the past, we have had nappy issues. While we would (obviously) love our kids to wear cheaper nappies, these just didn’t work – we had leaks, the nappies were uncomfortable and it was no fun for anyone concerned – and in the end, they only settled in the top of the range Pampers. Think of it like your fussy cat who will only eat the expensive cat food or your fussy husband *ahem* who will only watch the smartest flatscreen TV.
However, these Real Baby nappies do the job. I have commented on twitter that I am amazed at how much capacity they have, and this is important, since our kids are at the stage where they are only wearing nappies at night – and so that’s 10 hours at a time.
If I have one criticism, they are a little bulkier than the Pampers brand, but for nighttime use, this really hasn’t been any problem at all. And we have tested them thoroughly – including nights after swimming, hot nights with extra drinks and even one 13½ hour marathon sleep by little Kristen. Not a leak in sight. Amazing.
Then compare the price: R2.50 each versus R3.75 each for the Pampers equivalent. It’s impressive stuff.

The Hygiene Liquid Hand Soap isn’t specifically a baby product, but it is an essential in any house with small children (and I say this in both my blogging guise and my professional role as a microbiologist). Again, this just does the job with no fuss. The active ingredient is triclosan which is a very effective antibacterial and antifungal agent and the product has a pleasant citrus scent. I have the bottle in front of me here on my desk and already Alex is wanting it put back in the bathroom so that he can go and wash his hands.
So evidently, it also promotes good habits in your little ones.

But my favourite product of all is the Real Baby Tear Free Baby Shampoo. It has a cartoon giraffe on the front, which is a great start (although the product does look hugely similar to the Real Baby Body Wash, which has caused a little confusion).
At R23.99 for 400ml, this shampoo comes in about half the price of the equivalent Johnson’s product, but rather than being as good, but cheaper than the market leader like many of the Real Baby products, this one does the job better in so many ways.
The design of the bottle, for example: someone has actually thought about it. The shape means that it’s easier to grip, which makes a big difference when you have soapy hands (are you reading this, Mr Johnson?) and the flip-top lid has a big lip which means that you don’t have to struggle to hold a slippery child in frog-in-a-sock mode in one hand, the shampoo bottle in the other while opening the lid with your third. Wait, what?

We’ve all been there.
(In fact, it was this post about bathing the kids that established my credibility as a parent for many readers).

The shampoo is thick, which means that a little goes a long way. It smells great (that’ll be the chamomile extract) and – without wanting to sound like a Verimark advert – it left my daughter’s hair silky smooth and tangle free. (I’ve failed, haven’t I?)
Best of all, it really is gentle on the kids’ eyes – which is good, because “it’s hard to lose a friend when your heart is full of hope, but it’s worse to lose the towel when your eyes are full of soap”. Especially when the eyes are those of your 2-year-old daughter.
Seriously, it’s kind of hard to get excited about baby shampoo, but this stuff has revolutionised our hair wash nights. I might even start using it myself.

So there you have it. 1,000+ words about Pick n Pay’s Real Baby products. You didn’t think it was possible; I didn’t think it was possible. But the cynic in me has been silenced. (Briefly, at least.)

I’m giving the Real Baby range a solid thumbs up. Good quality, great value.
Nice work, Pick n Pay.

Eat. Pray. Love. Best. Review. Ever?

I don’t do films but I did (belatedly) catch sight of an abridged version of Peter Bradshaw’s review of Eat Pray Love today and it made me smile.

Sit, watch, groan. Yawn, fidget, stretch. Eat Snickers, pray for end of dire film about Julia Roberts’s emotional growth, love the fact it can’t last for ever. Wince, daydream, frown. Whimper, moan, grimace. Wriggle, writhe, squirm. Seethe, growl, rage.

This is merely a cleverly written variant of the same feelings that I have heard from Mrs 6k, friends and colleagues who have had the misfortune of wasting several hours of their lives with Ms Roberts.

Does anyone know anyone who actually liked this film?

Gentlemen prefer Blonde?

Ah yes – the Blonde review that I promised and then never did. Well, when there are other things to do like braai’ing and drinking beer, making a biltong drier with your son and watching a somewhat implausible yet rather amusing film featuring Morgan Freeman and Christopher Walken, restaurant reviews understandably take a back seat.

But all that is done – and I did promise to tell you about what was an interesting and generally enjoyable evening with the Molton Brown Curry Club. (Can I say “club”…?)

The first thing you notice about Blonde is the huge glass door that the Tall Accountant almost smashed on the way out a bit later. It’s a bit odd, sitting there in the doorframe of a Victorian terraced house, but it works (aesthetically and functionally). It’s almost a metaphor for the awkward and obvious juxtaposition of Victorian building and Noughties style that’s everywhere within.
You’re met with that chandelier in the entrance area and then you go inside and it’s all white walls, big art, creative types, orange oregan pine floors and smart waitrons.
And that Maitre D’ that turned all our heads. More than once.

We were ushered from the rather cramped bar up the stunningly open staircase to our ever so comfy seats on the top floor in a pleasant, but overly bright room and then we struck our first problem: thanks to a last minute change of mind, our numbers had swelled from 6 to 7. The staff dealt with the issue impeccably, suggesting that we use their “Attic Room”, which is (somewhat confusingly) situated just off the half landing between the floors. This room also acts as their wine cellar and while it was a little “rough and ready”, it suited us perfectly. One huge improvement was the lighting, which was provided by a single CFL bulb at one end of the room and a wine fridge at the other – a stark yet welcome contrast to the supernova brightness in the main restaurant.

Blonde has a remarkable opening deal which is on until the end of August – 50% off everything. Beer, cocktails, wine, food – the whole lot, slashed by half. Schweet.
And it’s a good job too.
Without their generosity, we would have forked out a mighty R5,000 between the 7 of us. And that, I’m afraid, is utterly ridiculous.

Because for a restaurant in Cape Town to require you to part with that much cash, they need to be exceptional in every single department. And while it was a pretty good effort (and a damn good evening), Blonde fell a little short.

The menu is unnecessarily complicated. They should take their own hint here – how much nonsense must be included in each description to warrant the basic dish to be in bold so you can actually see what you are eating? Also, I don’t want to have to rely on my GCSE French to work out what I’m going to order (and to help out my fellow diners) and why does everything seem to come with a reduction of something? Mint reduction, beef reduction, poultry reduction, balsamic reduction, aged balsamic reduction – the list goes on and on.
And the fact that there were pictures of pretty ladies on each page didn’t distract us enough from the lowlighted and annoyingly american-spelled exorbitant prices.

The waitrons at MBCC evenings traditionally never have a particularly easy ride, so it would perhaps be unfair to detrimentally judge Neil’s performance, although it would have been nice to see a bit more of him during the evening. Again, it didn’t really trouble us that we were left to our own devices surrounded by a couple of thousand bottles of wine, but had it have been a different set of friends, it would probably have been a little disappointing service-wise and probably undeserving of the “discretionary 13% service charge” which is automatically added to every bill (but which you must “feel free to ask us to remove if you are not comfortable with this addition”).
I’m not quite sure where, when or why that extra 3% suddenly crept into Cape Town dining. Nor the automatic addition of the discretionary tip. But I don’t like it.

But I digress and in the meanwhile, the table was treated to melba toast with salmon pate and carpaccio of beef. Oh dear. My first experience of fine dining at Blonde was a frozen block of allegedly fresh carpaccio. And I mean frozen rock solid – ice crystals and all. We pointed this out to an (eventually) passing waitress who apologised profusely and removed it before belatedly replacing it with two more spoonfuls of the pate, which was salmon pate.

Not a good start then, but the first of the wine was beginning to kick in and so we happily continued.
Given such a huge and complex choice, I (and many of the others in the party) went with Neil’s recommendation of Blonde’s “signature dishes”.

The starters received mixed reviews: my calamari ceviche was ordinary and the Offshore Tax Director was hugely unimpressed with the roasted vegetable salad which he had inexplicably ordered. But on the bright side, there were very positive noises made about the spice-fried baby calamari.
Virtually everyone went for the much vaunted truffle-infused fillet for mains. The meat was good (if a little small in size) and cooked to perfection and again, maybe it would be overly critical of me to have a go at the perhaps too salty jus or the mildly dry risotto balls that accompanied it. But remember that come the 1st of September, they’re going be asking for “one hundred eighty nine” Rands for that dish.
If you want to charge that sort of money, it’s going to have to be better than that.
As a consolation, the Tall Accountant very much enjoyed his smoked springbok loin, although he couldn’t enthuse too freely, since any reference to the national rugby team was banned from the evening’s conversation.

The desserts were also “ok”. Chocolate fondante was “nice”, the Peach Cobbler was “alright”.
“Fine, but not spectacular” was the theme of the evening – the service, the food, the ambiance – it was  just “ok”. And a little expensive for what we got at R350 a head (albeit with drinks and that discretionary 13% service charge included).

But then you remember that everything was half price. And that’s where it all goes horribly wrong.
Because we were already feeling a little bit ripped-off.
Look, we’re a gang of Southern Suburbs living married men – and admittedly probably not Blonde’s target market. But we’ve all been around long enough to know a decent restaurant experience when we get it. This wasn’t it.

But then again, for the target market, does it actually have to be a decent restaurant experience for Blonde to survive post their half price opening offer? How much are that target market of well-paid, City Bowl dwelling DINKY’s looking for great food and service and how much are they looking for the trendy place to see and be seen?
As I understand it – Blonde is that trendy place right now. But in being it, it’s alienated a lot of potential customers who could have supported it beyond the initial hype and hullabaloo.

Risky move, chaps. Good luck out there.