RECIPES
Fig and Pear hors d'oeuvre
1 cup finely diced figs (either fresh or dried)
1 tsp. minced fresh ginger
1/4 cup Madeira, port wine or full-bodied red wine
2 tbsp. sugar
1 sprig fresh rosemary
1 pear; peeled and chopped into small pieces
1 baguette, thinly sliced and lightly toasted
1 tub Boursin
Simmer together first five ingredients for 5 minutes in a covered small pot. Add pear, and simmer for an additional 5 minutes. Remove from heat. Remove rosemary.
Spread Boursin thinly on c ooled baguette slices. Top with a dollop of fruit compote. Serve immediately. Compote can be made in advance and refrigerated.
Seafood Chowder
Fry up some celery and onions in butter till softened. Add about 3 Tbsps. flour and stir till mixed. Add a can of clam nectar and about an equal amount of light cream. Stir till mixed well and add a potato or two cut up into cubes. Simmer for about 10 minutes or till potatoes soften.
Buy some seafood that you like - I got about 5 prawns, a small piece of salmon and some chunks of snapper and cod. I then fried them all quickly in butter till barely cooked, threw them in the soup cut up into smallish pieces. Lots of pepper, and any herbs you want.
Or there is Ian McEwan/Henry Perowne's Fish Stew recipe.
MUSIC: CAT POWER
A-
from Stylus Magazine
The reclamation of the American South has not been limited to hip-hop. An increasing number of artists—Frank Black and My Morning Jacket to name a couple—have recently tapped the region’s resources, from dated recording equipment to idle session warriors. These efforts have gone far beyond R.E.M. and Elephant Six’s Faulkner-ized mysticism, focusing less on the Dixie’s arcane, gothic romance and more on the enduring sonic memories the region birthed through the first half of the 20th century. Cat Power’s Chan Marshall is the latest student of the South, her musical ideology inching closer to her native Georgia since 1998’s Moon Pix. The Greatest, however, is the most fruitful and complete work to come from the underground’s recent fixation, an album of surprising compromise and lasting faith.
Recorded in a week with a group of Memphis session veterans—Mabon and Leroy Hodges among them—on The Greatest Marshall effectively receives her Southern inheritance: buoyant horn fills, mercury Telecaster leads, sawing violins. Dusty Springfield’s Dusty in Memphis is the obvious touchstone, but Springfield defied expectations by approaching Southern soul as a white, British diva. Marshall is a daughter of these sounds, and The Greatest sounds less like a reach for new sonic frontiers as the hazy underbelly of the folk-blues skeletons Marshall has been propping up for over a decade.
Springfield was famously too intimidated to sing in front of the legendary band she’d contracted; in contrast, Marshall sounds settled, if not completely comfortable, in front of Hodges and company, her sparse piano chords allowing the band ample room to mold their infallible country-soul. Infallible, and inspiring: the true value in The Greatest lies in the way the band consistently shifts Marshall just slightly out of her comfort zone, forcing her to maneuver tempos, textures, and themes foreign to her work.
This is crucial. Marshall has been predisposed to drifting on past albums, fueled in no small part by her singular and often isolated sonic palette. She is afforded no such luxury on the spry, swinging “Could We,” arguably as bright as Marshall has ever sounded. “Islands” features a familiar melancholy, but the song’s Hawaiian pedal steel intro coerces Marshall to adapt. And adapt she does, transforming a too-familiar pining into high personal drama, singing, “I don’t want no heavy diamonds / And pearls crush my teeth / I just want my sailor / to sail back to me.” Marshall’s fusion of potentially banal sentimentality with desperate, empathetic expression is a constant throughout The Greatest, her newfound economy of image one of the album’s subtle surprises.
The interaction between Marshall’s idiosyncratic songwriting and her band’s traditional ethos manifests fully in “Willie,” a rewrite of Speaking for Tree’s marathon narrative. A lonely horn wonks in the background as Marshall’s coo stirs with an insistent grand piano and cagey guitar chords. Words appear only in spurts: “Second time was through the heart…Willie had a job to do…Please don’t bring him down…He’s on the same side as you.” It is the album’s sonic centerpiece, its sighing majesty the place setter for the blue simplicity of “Where Is My Love,” the wayward “The Moon,” and the Crazy Horse-lite closer “Love and Communication.”
The Greatest isn’t perfect, but its stumbles are neither intrusive nor damning: “Hate” feels reductive, especially at the end of the album, and “Empty Shell” languishes anonymously. But Marshall’s tendency to coast is severed here, a combination of a restless, joyous band and a refreshingly brief twelve-song cycle. It’s important to note that Marshall’s collaboration is no academic exploration, nor is it cut-and-paste revisionism. These songs were born for their arrangements, Marshall’s songwriting tailored for her veteran band the way their tested measures were for her strident, smoky husk.
During the second verse of “Lived in Bars,” Marshall asks “Who’s gonna play drums, guitar, and organ with chorus?” right before the melody goes double-time to keep pace with the newly vibrant brass section, her question answered with a grin. The moment is a miniature of The Greatest’s triumph: Hodges and company humor Marshall for stretches, subtly adding atmosphere and rhythm before forcing her to a higher plane. Marshall’s walking in some tall cotton here, shambling heartily through the South, the blessings of its musical patriarchs clutched proudly in her palm.
BASEBALL
NL EAST
ATLANTA BRAVES Moving in/moving out: The Braves took a double hit when shortstop and leadoff man Rafael Furcal grabbed the Dodgers' big money and closer Kyle Farnsworth took big bucks from the Yankees. The defending NL East champs also saw Julio Franco, a key bench player and half of their first-base platoon, sign with the rival Mets. Atlanta rebounded a bit by trading prospect Andy Marte to the Red Sox for shortstop Edgar Renteria, and bolstered the bullpen somewhat by trading catcher Johnny Estrada to the Diamondbacks for Lance Cormier and Oscar Villarreal. Strangely for the Braves, though, they've been more reactive than proactive.
Lowdown: Second baseman Marcus Giles is penciled in at leadoff right now, and the Braves are still looking for a closer. Chris Reitsma is about all they have. Renteria should return to his All-Star form in the NL. The rest of the team is largely intact, including a solid rotation, a lot of good, young position players and some outstanding veterans such as Giles, Andruw Jones and Chipper Jones. That all bodes well for a run at a 15th straight division title. But as far as getting better, the Braves didn't.
GRADE: Still shopping, still trying to catch up -- C.
FLORIDA MARLINS Moving in/moving out: Faced with an ownership mandate to slash payroll, the Marlins tore down a deep and contending team by trading away tons of talent. Gone are first baseman Carlos Delgado (Mets), pitcher Josh Beckett (Red Sox), infielder Mike Lowell (Red Sox), catcher Paul Lo Duca (Mets), center fielder Juan Pierre (Cubs) and second baseman Luis Castillo (Twins). Free agents Jeff Conine (Orioles), A.J. Burnett (Blue Jays), Todd Jones (Tigers) and Juan Encarnacion (Cardinals) left too.
Lowdown: The franchise's two youngest and best stars, pitcher Dontrelle Willis and now-third baseman Miguel Cabrera, are about all that remains. They'll be joined by a load of possibly talented but definitely untested prospects that the Marlins got in all those trades. The Marlins signed Joe Borowski to close, and Pokey Reese to play second base, but for the most part, you're going to need a scorecard to figure out who these guys are.
GRADE: Gutted, just like the bosses wanted -- B.
NEW YORK METS Moving in/moving out: No NL team benefited more from the Marlins' selloff than the Mets, who traded for first baseman Carlos Delgado and catcher Paul Lo Duca, both of them All-Stars who plug gaping holes. Mets GM Omar Minaya also landed the closer he needed, signing free-agent lefty Billy Wagner (four years, $43 million), cleared some salary by trading right fielder Mike Cameron to the Padres for new right fielder Xavier Nady, and signed solid bench players in Julio Franco and Jose Valentin. A late trade sending surprisingly good starter Jae Seo to the Dodgers in exchange for righty relievers Duaner Sanchez and Steve Schmoll added depth to the bullpen.
Lowdown: Minaya didn't get Manny Ramirez after all that talking, but that is about the only significant player the Mets wanted who wasn't lured to Queens. With a blockbuster offseason, every part of this team is better, with the possible exception of the starting pitching depth now that Seo is gone. The shortcomings at catcher and first base have been filled wonderfully, the bullpen problems are addressed and the bench is better. If the Mets stay relatively healthy and their creaky rotation doesn't fall apart, the Braves will face their toughest test in more than a decade.
GRADE: Money and good trades pay off -- A.
PHILADELPHIA PHILLIES Moving in/moving out: New GM Pat Gillick completed his biggest offseason task when he traded first baseman Jim Thome to the White Sox for center fielder Aaron Rowand. Gillick couldn't talk closer Billy Wagner into staying, so the Phils settled on former Yankees setup man Tom Gordon. The Phils also traded starter Vicente Padilla, signed starter Ryan Franklin and versatile infielder Abraham Nunez and brought in a few bullpen arms in various trades and signings. They also bought a backup catcher.
Lowdown: The Phils spent much of the winter dangling right fielder Bobby Abreu, only to find no takers, and dabbling in other blockbuster talks, only to come up empty. They lost out on Wagner, the closer they really wanted, and are still hurting in the bullpen. They also could have used more help in the rotation (Philly starters had a 4.20 ERA in '05, ninth in the NL). The Thome trade was good, though, because it filled a trouble spot in center, cleared up the first base problem and helped ease the payroll.
GRADE: Not much better, but maybe better off -- C.
WASHINGTON NATIONALS Moving in/moving out: Indefatigable GM Jim Bowden pulled off a whopper of a trade for a slugger: Texas second baseman Alfonso Soriano. But it seems that the Nationals will have to drag him kicking and screaming into the outfield. The Nats are now without outfielders Brad Wilkerson and Terrmel Sledge (both went to the Rangers for Soriano), and free-agent Preston Wilson, who signed with Houston. Contenders for much of 2005 before finishing .500, the Nats lost a couple of free-agent starters, too, in Esteban Loaiza and Hector Carrasco. Bowden tried to offset that in an early trade for San Diego's Brian Lawrence and the later signing of free agent Ramon Ortiz. The Nationals will also have a newcomer at third (Vinny Castilla was traded to the Padres for Lawrence), new infield backup and a new lefty out of the bullpen: veteran Mike Stanton.
Lowdown: The lowest-scoring team in baseball needed punch. Bowden thinks he has it in Soriano, though his numbers undoubtedly will drop from what they were in Texas due to the expanse of RFK Stadium. Soriano, at least, will contribute some offense along with Nick Johnson, Jose Guillen and Jose Vidro. But in losing Loaiza and Carrasco, the Nats' starters took a step back from '05, when they were seventh in the NL with a 4.03 ERA.
GRADE: Lots of motion, not a lot of movement -- D.
NL CENTRAL
CHICAGO CUBS Moving in/moving out: An early push for free-agent shortstop Rafael Furcal went for naught (he signed with the Dodgers), but GM Jim Hendry, under the gun after a 79-83 season, recovered nicely. He traded for Florida's Juan Pierre, who will lead off and play center, both troublesome spots last year, and fortified his bullpen -- another scary spot -- with two better-than-average free-agent signings: lefty Scott Eyre (from the Giants) and righty Bobby Howry (Indians). The Cubs spent $23 million to lock those two up for the next three years. The other noteworthy signing was free agent right fielder Jacque Jones (Minnesota), who won't blast as many homers as the departed Jeromy Burnitz but offers better defense and more on the basepaths.
Lowdown: The restructured and now possibly dominant bullpen should help prop up the always-touchy rotation. The biggest non-pitching question remains at shortstop, where veteran Neifi Perez and 23-year-old Ronny Cedeno will try to do what the Cubs wanted Furcal to do. Still, when the smoke clears, this offseason will be judged on how well the hard-working Pierre does. He improves the defense and, if he's at top form, he'll provide many more RBI opportunities for Derrek Lee and Aramis Ramirez.
GRADE: Improved in the field, in the 'pen and at the plate -- B.
CINCINNATI REDS Moving in/moving out: Pitching was Priority No. 1 for the Reds, and they addressed it -- some -- by dealing away popular first baseman Sean Casey to the Pirates for lefty starter Dave Williams. That wasn't the extent of their moves this winter, but it's pretty close. Adam Dunn now will man first base, leaving the outfield to Austin Kearns, Ken Griffey Jr. and Wily Mo Pena. Infielder Rich Aurilia re-signed, too, and the Reds traded for light-hitting utility man Tony Womack, which should give them some options off the bench. Lefty reliever Chris Hammond signed up. But, so far, there aren't a lot of new faces in Cincinnati.
Lowdown: One new starting pitcher -- and a lower-rung one at that -- won't make a lot of difference for the Reds, who should have learned that last season with Eric Milton. Like a lot of teams, the Reds are leaning on their youngsters (Kearns, Pena, Dunn, shortstop Felipe Lopez, versatile Ryan Freel) and the occasional vet (Griffey, Aurilia) to get them through. But the pitching -- this team has no closer -- is just not there.
GRADE: Too quiet to do any good -- D.
HOUSTON ASTROS Moving in/moving out: Handcuffed by a huge payroll tied up in a few players, the Astros haven't been able to do a lot. The NL champs re-signed catcher Brad Ausmus, a must, along with outfielder Orlando Palmeiro and pitcher Russ Springer. They signed Preston Wilson, who adds to a glut of outfielders. But the Astros will figure out who plays where later. The uncertainty of first baseman Jeff Bagwell's return makes the need for more power in the lineup more crucial. (The Astros hit .203 in the World Series against the White Sox.)
Lowdown: This is, in large part, the same team that worked its way into the World Series, with one huge exception: Roger Clemens. No one yet knows whether the ace will return in '06, and that (along with the inflated payroll) has stymied the Astros. Still, the pitching's good enough to compete, and Wilson is a slight upgrade, offensively, for a team that needs all the pop it can find.
GRADE: Did what they could to get better -- C.
MILWAUKEE BREWERS Moving in/moving out: A surprising .500 team in '05, the Brewers are entering a critical year. Their biggest move was a necessary one: trading first baseman Lyle Overbay to make room for Prince Fielder. GM Doug Melvin made a good deal, getting starter Dave Bush, outfielder Gabe Gross and pitcher Zach Jackson, a former first rounder, from the Blue Jays. The Brewers and Jays also traded to get third baseman Corey Koskie to Milwaukee (for righty Brian Wolfe), and Melvin sent pitcher Wes Obermueller to Atlanta to get back the Brewers' former closer, Dan Kolb. The bullpen, though, is still a soft spot.
Lowdown: After years of ineptitude, the Brewers are seeing their effort at developing talent begin to pay off. With players like Fielder, second baseman Rickie Weeks and shortstop J.J. Hardy, the Brewers have a lot of potential to go with outfielders Carlos Lee and Geoff Jenkins and, now, third baseman Koskie. The team's starters, sixth in the NL with a 4.02 ERA last year, remain largely intact, and now Bush joins them. The big question? The bullpen, which could make or break the Brewers.
GRADE: Slightly better than a .500 offseason -- C.
PITTSBURGH PIRATES Moving in/moving out: GM Dave Littlefield signed a slugger he needed -- Cubs free agent Jeromy Burnitz -- capping a very good run for the Pirates. The Bucs also found a useful hitter and great clubhouse guy in first baseman Sean Casey (who came in a trade with the Reds for lefty starter Dave Williams). Ditto for third baseman Joe Randa (a free agent from San Diego). They also bought reliever Roberto Hernandez (2.58 ERA in 67 appearances for the Mets in '05) and filled out the bullpen. Their closer (Mike Gonzalez) is untested, and their rotation is pretty young. But the Pirates are looking up.
Lowdown: Littlefield would like a little more power from his corner infield spots, but Randa and Casey are respectable at getting on base, at least. The Pirates will rely on the revamped lineup and their young, talented rotation (Oliver Perez, Zach Duke, Kip Wells, Paul Maholm) to get them to .500 or better, somewhere they haven't been since 1992.
GRADE: Safe and steady is starting to pay off -- B.
ST. LOUIS CARDINALS Moving in/moving out: This has been a tumultuous offseason for the reigning NL Central champs. The Cardinals lost most of their outfield when Reggie Sanders signed with Kansas City and Larry Walker retired. Solid second baseman Mark Grudzielanek also left (K.C.) and third baseman Abraham Nunez signed with Philadelphia. Starter Matt Morris (101-62 in eight years with the Cardinals) bolted to San Francisco for a three-year, $27 million deal. The Cards also traded lefty reliever Ray King to the Rockies and saw reliever Julian Tavarez sign a two-year deal with Boston. Reliever Cal Eldred, who appeared in 145 games in the past three years for the Cards, retired.
Lowdown: GM Walt Jocketty isn't one to stand still. Though the Cardinals lost out on a lot of free agents, they did find a decent hitter and a replacement outfielder in Juan Encarnacion, and landed capable outfielder Larry Bigbie from the Rockies in the trade for King. Wayward free agent starter Sidney Ponson was a relatively cheap gamble at $1 million for this year, and the Cards tried to replenish the bullpen with former Mets closer Braden Looper and former Oakland lefty Ricardo Rincon. Free-agent pickup Junior Spivey and Aaron Miles (also from Colorado in the King deal) will probably compete for the starting job at second base. That's a lot of movement, and not all of it is an improvement. But with solid starting pitching, a good closer in Jason Isringhausen, third baseman Scott Rolen healthy again and guys like Jim Edmonds and MVP Albert Pujols still hanging around, the Cards will hope it's enough.
GRADE: Stumble, step up, scramble, start again -- C.
NL WEST
ARIZONA DIAMONDBACKS Moving in/moving out: Continuing their climb from the 111-loss abyss of 2004, the Diamondbacks had tons of work to do and came out ... well, it's hard to say. They dealt disappointing starter Javier Vazquez to the White Sox for Orlando Hernandez, a reliever and a stud center-field prospect. They swapped big-swinging third baseman Troy Glaus to the Blue Jays for starter Miguel Batista and Gold Glove second baseman Orlando Hudson. They picked up catcher Johnny Estrada in a trade with Atlanta. And they signed a starting center fielder in Eric Byrnes. All of them fill holes. But ...
Lowdown: It's very possible that Hernandez and Batista will be worse than Vazquez and Shawn Estes (who signed with the Padres). The two new D'backs certainly are older. Glaus' bat -- no getting around this -- will be missed. Expecting youngsters like Chad Trady and first baseman Conor Jackson to immediately pick up the slack is asking too much. But the beauty in these deals, in Arizona's eyes, is in guys like Hudson, who's just entering his prime, and that young stud center fielder, Chris Young, who has shown great power in the minors. Estrada, too, is a good find if he ever shakes off the collision he had last year with the Angels' Darin Erstad. The D'backs still have problems in the bullpen, and their rotation could be tr?s shaky (Brandon Webb notwithstanding), but there's enough young talent (Tracy, Jackson and others) and veteran know-how (Luis Gonzalez, Shawn Green) to keep things interesting.
GRADE: Maybe better for the future, but not now -- C.
COLORADO ROCKIES Moving in/moving out: The young Rockies went through major growing pains during a 95-loss season in '05, and Colorado's not about to abandon its basic plan now. Still, the Rocks added some experience in free agent closer Jose Mesa, re-signed starter Byung-Hyun Kim and added to their bullpen savvy by re-signing Mike DeJean and trading for St. Louis lefty Ray King. They also traded for a catcher, landing the Mariners' Yorvit Torrealba. What's that? Not excited about any of those guys?
Lowdown: Well, those guys are all useful players, and all are needed, but the Rockies will still ride their youngsters (third baseman Garrett Atkins, shortstop Clint Barmes, right fielder Brad Hawpe, outfielder Matt Holliday) and stumble because of a mostly lightweight rotation in a pitchers' purgatory. That's just life, and near-death experiences, in Coors Field.
GRADE: Youth on the Rocks in Colorado -- C
LOS ANGELES DODGERS Moving in/moving out: Losing a manager and a GM in the span of a month put the Dodgers -- terrible in '05 with 91 losses -- way behind. But once GM Ned Colletti was pried away from the Giants, he went to work and stole former Braves shortstop Rafael Furcal (the Cubs thought they had him), hired new manager Grady Little and generally did not stop for weeks at a time. The Dodgers probably missed on as many players as they got -- Paul Konerko, Manny Ramirez and several big-name pitchers turned them down -- but they did sign Nomar Garciaparra to play first base, Bill Mueller to play third and Kenny Lofton to play center. Colletti also calmed the clubhouse by sending Milton Bradley to the A's. He added two starters by trading for the Mets' Jae Seo and signing Giants free agent Brett Tomko. The bullpen was re-stocked with closer Danys Baez and reliever Lance Carter from Tampa Bay. All in all, an incredible workout for a team that started so far behind.
Lowdown: Whether the Dodgers are better in '06 depends largely on the health of J.D. Drew, Jayson Werth and Garciaparra. But Furcal helps, as does Mueller, while Seo and Tomko at least make up for the free-agent loss of Jeff Weaver. The whole place should be much more upbeat, too.
GRADE: A late start, a really strong finish -- B
SAN DIEGO PADRES Moving in/moving out: The NL West champs (82-80) had next to no hitting in '05, so GM Kevin Towers went on a sign-and-swap frenzy. Towers made sure the Padres kept what good they had by re-signing on-base machine Brian Giles. Then he solidified the strongest part of a pretty good bullpen, getting closer Trevor Hoffman, a San Diego favorite, to re-up. Beyond that, the Padres' moves were truly dizzying. A big breath now ... They dumped uninspiring third baseman Sean Burroughs on the Devil Rays in exchange for uninspired pitcher Dewon Brazelton, then upgraded their offense at third by trading pitcher Brian Lawrence to the Nationals for sometime-slugger Vinny Castilla. They shored up their outfield defense, and added some offense, by trading Xavier Nady for the Mets' Mike Cameron. They lost some offense, though, by trading second baseman Mark Loretta to the Red Sox for catcher Doug Mirabelli, though that was necessary with the loss of free-agent catcher Ramon Hernandez (who signed with Baltimore). Starter Adam Eaton and bullpen stalwart Akinori Otsuka were traded to the Rangers for starter Chris Young and backup outfielder Terrmel Sledge.
Lowdown: The rotation, the best part of the team in '05, may be a little shakier without Eaton and Lawrence. Newcomers Young and free-agent pickup Shawn Estes (from Arizona) aren't quite their equals, though there's always ace Jake Peavy. The previously strong bullpen will be without Otsuka, Chris Hammond and Rudy Seanez, but with Hoffman bearing down on the all-time saves record, it should be good enough. The weak offense has improved, and the defense, a key part of this team in spacious Petco Park, is better with Castilla and Cameron.
GRADE: Getting over that barely .500 hump a must -- B.
SAN FRANCISCO GIANTS Moving in/moving out: You-know-who should be back in 2006, if the Giants are lucky, for 120 or 130 games. That should automatically give a huge boost to the offense. Barry Bonds' return is critical because, for the most part, this has been a sleepy offseason in San Francisco. The starting pitching got a shot in the arm with the signing of righty Matt Morris (three years, $27 million). Longtime starter Kirk Rueter is gone (released last August) and Brett Tomko signed with the Dodgers. The bullpen is a little iffy, too. A trade for Baltimore's Steve Kline (for righty LaTroy Hawkins) and the signing of Tim Worrell looks good, but the loss of steady lefty Scott Eyre (Cubs) was a big blow. Veteran first baseman J.T. Snow, who played in nearly 1,200 games for the Giants over the past nine years, has moved on to the Red Sox, clearing the way for young Lance Niekro.
Lowdown: The Giants should be much improved after a 75-87 showing, but it won't be because of any moves they've made this winter, the landing of Morris aside. The Giants will be better because of the return of Bonds (assuming he's healthy), a full season from closer Armando Benitez (if he's healthy, too) and the improvement of young pitchers Noah Lowry, Matt Cain and Brad Hennessey. If all those things go right, that should be enough to put the Giants in the middle of the division race.
GRADE: Just getting healthy in a quiet offseason -- C.
MY WEEK AS A WAITER
from NYTimes
My Week as a Waiter
By FRANK BRUNI
IT'S 7:45 p.m., the East Coast Grill is going full tilt and I'm ready to throttle one of the six diners at Table M-8.
He wants me to describe the monkfish special. For the fourth time. I hoarsely oblige, but when I return yet again to my riff on the apricot lager mustard, which comes right before my oratorical ode to the maple pecan mashed sweet potatoes, his attention flags and he starts to talk to a friend.
Does he mistake me for a recorded message, paused and played with the push of a button? Doesn't he know I have other tables to serve?
I need to go over and massage the mood at R-5, where one of the two diners has a suspiciously shallow pool of broth in her bouillabaisse, perhaps because I spilled some of it near M-2.
And I need to redeem myself with the two diners at X-9, who quizzed me about what the restaurant had on tap and received a blank stare in response. I'm supposed to remember the beers? Along with everything about the monkfish, these oddly coded table references, more than 10 wines by the glass and the provenance of the house oysters?
I had no idea.
I usually spend my nights on the other side of the table, not only asking the questions and making the demands but also judging and, I concede, taking caustic little mental notes. And it's been 20 years since I walked in a waiter's shoes, something I did for only six months.
But last week I traded places and swapped perspectives, a critic joining the criticized, to get a taste of what servers go through and what we put them through, of how they see and survive us. My ally was Chris Schlesinger, a well-known cook and author who owns the East Coast Grill, in Cambridge, Mass., and has no business interests in New York. So that my presence in the restaurant wouldn't become public knowledge, he introduced me to his staff as a freelance writer named Gavin doing a behind-the-scenes article to be placed in a major publication.
In some ways this restaurant, which opened in 1985 and specializes in fresh seafood and barbecue, was an easy assignment. Its service ethic is casual, so I didn't have to sweat many niceties. Its food is terrific, so diners don't complain all that much.
But its pace can be frenetic, and servers have little room to maneuver among 100 or so tightly spaced seats.
From Monday through Saturday, I worked the dinner shift, showing up by 3:30 and usually staying past 11. I took care of just a few diners at first and many more as the week progressed.
And I learned that for servers in a restaurant as busy as the East Coast Grill, waiting tables isn't a job. It's a back-straining, brain-addling, sanity-rattling siege.
Monday
Pop Quiz and Chop Chop
Every day at 4 p.m., the servers take a pop quiz. This afternoon's questions include ones on how the restaurant acquires its oysters and the color, texture and taste of mahi-mahi.
Before and after the quiz they tackle chores: moving furniture, hauling tubs of ice from the basement, folding napkins. I pitch in by chopping limes into quarters and lemons into eighths. I chop and chop. My fingers go slightly numb.
The servers range in age from their early 20's to their late 40's. Some go to school or hold other jobs on the side. Many would like to do less physically demanding work. All would like to earn more money.
If they put in a full schedule of four prime shifts a week, they might make $45,000 a year before taxes. Almost all of it is from tips. They wonder if diners realize that.
Bryan, a young server with whom I'm training, brings me up to speed on the crazy things diners do. They let their children run rampant, a peril to the children as well as the servers. They assume that the first table they are shown to is undesirable and insist on a different one, even if it's demonstrably less appealing. They decline to read what's in front of them and want to hear all their options. Servers disparagingly call this a "menu tour."
I acquire a new vocabulary. To "verbalize the funny" is to tell the kitchen about a special request. "Campers" are people who linger forever at tables. "Verbal tippers" are people who offer extravagant praise in lieu of 20 percent.
The doors open at 5:30 and soon two women are seated at L-3. They interrogate Bryan at great length about the monkfish, which, in changing preparations, will be a special all week long. He delivers a monkfish exegesis; they seem rapt.
They order the mahi-mahi and the swordfish.
"It's amazing," Bryan tells me, "how unadventurous people are."
How unpredictable, too. During a later stretch, Bryan has a man and a woman at L-3 and two men at L-4. The tables are adjacent and the diners receive the same degree of attention. The men at L-4 leave $85 for a check of $72 - a tip of about 18 percent.
L-3's check is $58, and Bryan sees the man put down a stack of bills. Then, as the man gets up from the table, the woman shakes her head and removes $5. The remaining tip is $4, or about 7 percent.
Tuesday
Ice, Ice Baby
I'm shadowing Tina, who has worked at the East Coast Grill for decades and seen it all. She is handling the same section Bryan did. She offers a psychological profile of a woman sitting alone at L-3, who declared the chocolate torte too rich and announced, only after draining her margarita, that it had too much ice.
"Some people are interested in having the experience of being disappointed," Tina says.
Some people are worse. Arthur, a young server who is fairly new to the restaurant, recalls a man who walked in and announced that he had a reservation, a statement Arthur distrusted. The East Coast Grill doesn't take reservations.
Arthur tried to finesse the situation by saying he was unaware of the reservation but hadn't worked over the previous three days.
"You haven't worked in three days?" the man said, according to Arthur's recollection. "You're going to go far in life!"
At about 9:30, a half-hour before the kitchen stops accepting orders, I take my first table, two women and a man. I ask them if they want to know about the half-dozen specials.
"We want to know everything," the man says.
The statement is like a death knell. I mention the monkfish, but forget to say that it comes with a sweet shrimp and mango salsa. I mention the fried scallops, and I'm supposed to say they're from New Bedford, Mass. But that detail eludes me, so I stammer, "Um, they're not heavily breaded or anything." They seem puzzled by my vagueness and poised to hear more. I've got nothing left.
What unnerves me most is trying to gauge their mood. Sometimes they smile when I circle back to check on them. Sometimes they glare.
In addition to dexterity, poise and a good memory, a server apparently needs to be able to read minds.
Wednesday
Who Really Needs a Drink?
I'm under Jess's wing. She's young, funny and generous with her encouragement. That final quality turns out to be crucial, because after I greet four diners at M-7, I'm informed that one of them has an affiliation with the Culinary Institute of America.
As I walk toward them with a bowl of house pickles, which is the East Coast Grill's equivalent of a bread basket, my hand shakes and several pickles roll under their table. I can't tell if they notice.
But I can tell they don't trust me. I'm tentative as I recite the specials, and I ask one of them if he wants another Diet Coke. He's drinking beer. They all look at me as if I'm a moron.
Jess tells me that enthusiasm is more important than definitive knowledge, that many diners simply want a server to help them get excited about something.
"You've got to fake it until you make it," she says.
I take her pep talk to heart, perhaps too much so. I handle three men at M-6, one of whom asks, "Between the pulled pork platter and the pork spareribs, which would you do?"
I tell him I'd change course and head toward the pork chop.
"It's that good?" he says.
"It's amazing," I say. I've never had it, but I've seen it. It's big, and so is he.
He later tells me, "Dude, you so steered me right on that pork chop."
I serve four young women at M-9. They order, among other dishes, the "wings of mass destruction." Per the restaurant's script, I warn them away from it, pronouncing it too hot to handle. They press on and survive.
One of them later wonders aloud whether to have the superhot "martini from hell," made with peppered Absolut. I didn't even know it was on the menu before she mentioned it.
"Why worry?" I say. "With those wings, you climbed Everest. The martini's like a bunny slope."
She orders it and drinks it and she and her friends leave a 22 percent tip (which, like all the tips I receive, will be given to the other servers). The three men at M-6 leave 20 percent.
Have I become a service God?
Thursday
I'm Really Allergic to Tips ...
Divinity must wait.
It's on this night that I spill bouillabaisse, confront my limited beer knowledge and silently curse Mr. Monkfish at M-8. I move up to an evening-long total of eight tables comprising 20 diners; on Wednesday I served five tables and 17 diners.
I encounter firsthand an annoyance that other servers have told me about: the diner who claims an allergy that doesn't really exist. A woman at X-10, which is a table for two, or a "two top," repeatedly sends me to the kitchen for information on the sugar content of various rubs, relishes and sauces.
But when I ask her whether her allergy is to refined sugar only or to natural sugars as well, she hems, haws and downgrades her condition to a blood sugar concern, which apparently doesn't extend to the sparkling wine she is drinking.
She orders the sirloin skewers, requesting that their marginally sweet accouterments be put on a separate plate, away from her beef but available to her boyfriend. He rolls his eyes.
Pinging from table to table, I repeatedly forget to ask diners whether they want their tuna rare or medium and whether they want their margaritas up or on the rocks. I occasionally forget to put all the relevant information - prices, special requests, time of submission - on my ordering tickets.
At least everyone at M-8, including Mr. Monkfish, seems content. As I talk to one of the women in the group, another server noisily drops a plate bound for a nearby table. A rib-eye steak special skids to a halt at the woman's feet.
"Is that the cowboy?" she says, using the special's advertised name. "That looks really good!"
About an hour later M-8's spirits aren't so high. They're motioning for me, and it's a scary kind of motioning. The two credit cards I've returned to them aren't the ones they gave me.
One of my last tables is a couple at X-1. They take a bossy tone with me, so when the woman asks if it's possible to get the coconut shrimp in the pu pu platter á la carte, I automatically apologize and say that it's not.
It turns out that I'm right. (I guiltily check a few minutes later.) It also turns out that servers make such independent decisions and proclamations, based on the way diners have treated them, all the time.
Friday
Do Not Jump the Shark
Apparently everything up to now has been child's play. Business will double tonight. People will stand three deep at the bar, closing lanes of traffic between the kitchen and some of the tables.
"Like a shark," Chris Schlesinger tells us, "you've got to keep moving or you die."
My chaperone is Christa, who's as down to earth and supportive as Jess. She's supposed to watch and inevitably rescue me as I try to tackle an entire section of five tables, each of which will have at least two seatings, or "turns."
By 7:30, all of these tables are occupied, and all have different needs at the same time. One man wants to know his tequila choices. I just learned the beers that afternoon.
Another man wants directions to a jazz club. Someone else wants me to instruct the kitchen to take the tuna in one dish and prepare it like the mahi-mahi in another. That's a funny I'll have to verbalize, a few extra seconds I can't spare.
I've developed a cough. It threatens to erupt as I talk to three diners at M-6. Big problem. I obviously can't cough into my hand, which touches their plates, but I can't cough into the air either. I press my lips together as my chest heaves. I feel as if I'm suffocating.
The kitchen accepts orders at least until 10:30 on Fridays and Saturdays. I'm dealing with diners until 11. By then I've been on my feet for more than six hours.
Over the course of the night I have surrendered only two tables and six diners to Christa. I have taken care of 11 tables and 32 diners myself. Except I haven't, not really. When my tables needed more water, Christa often got it. When they needed new silverware, she fetched it, because I never noticed.
Truth be told, I wasn't so good about napkin replacement either.
Saturday
Feeding the Hordes
My last chance. My last test. The restaurant ended up serving 267 diners on Friday night. It will serve 346 tonight.
Between 5:30 and 5:50, I get five tables, each of which needs to be given water, pickles, a recitation of the specials and whatever coddling I can muster.
The couple at one table want a prolonged menu tour. I'm toast.
Once again I try to tackle an entire section, seven tables in all. Dave is my minder. He tells me to make clear to diners that they need to be patient.
"If you don't control the dynamic, they will," he says.
I don't control the dynamic. Around 6:30 I ask him to take over a table I've started. As some diners leave and new ones take their places, I ask him to take over a few more tables.
I deliver a second vodka on the rocks with a splash of Kahlúa to a woman at L-9. Before I can even put it down, she barks, "There's too much Kahlúa in that!" Nice to know you, too, ma'am.
I do some things right. I point a couple at L-6 toward the tuna taco, because by now I've tasted it and I know it's fantastic. They love it and tell me they love me, a verbal tip supplemented by 17 percent. The next couple at L-6 barely talk to me, seek and receive much less care and leave a tip of over 50 percent. Go figure.
I do many things wrong. I fail to wipe away crumbs. I don't write the time on one ticket. I write M-12 instead of L-12 on another, creating a table that doesn't exist.
Around 8:45, my shirt damp with perspiration, I hide for five minutes in a service corridor, where I dip into the staff's stash of chocolate bars. Then I suck on a wedge of lemon, a little trick I learned from Bryan, to freshen my breath.
By the end of the night I've served a total of 15 tables comprising 38 people. Some of these people were delightful, and most tipped well, keeping my weeklong average - for a comparatively light load of tables - at about 18 percent.
Some weren't so great. They supported an observation that Dave made about restaurants being an unflattering prism for human behavior.
"People are hungry, and then they're drinking," he noted. "Two of the worst states that people can be in."
I recall a young woman at a six-top who bounced in her seat as she said, in a loud singsong voice: "Where's our sangria? Where's our sangria?" Her sangria was on the way, although she didn't seem to need it, and the bouncing wasn't going to make it come any faster.
Around 11:30 all the servers are treated to a shot of tequila. I drink mine instantly. I'm exhausted. I'll still feel worn out two days later, when I chat briefly on the telephone with Jess, Christa and Dave, who by that point know the full truth about me.
"I think you got a good sense," Dave says.
I think so, too, if he's talking about trying to be fluent in the menu and the food, calm in the face of chaos, patient in the presence of rudeness, available when diners want that, invisible when they don't.
It's a lot, and I should remember that. But I'd still like frequent water refills. And a martini from hell. Straight up.
Fig and Pear hors d'oeuvre
1 cup finely diced figs (either fresh or dried)
1 tsp. minced fresh ginger
1/4 cup Madeira, port wine or full-bodied red wine
2 tbsp. sugar
1 sprig fresh rosemary
1 pear; peeled and chopped into small pieces
1 baguette, thinly sliced and lightly toasted
1 tub Boursin
Simmer together first five ingredients for 5 minutes in a covered small pot. Add pear, and simmer for an additional 5 minutes. Remove from heat. Remove rosemary.
Spread Boursin thinly on c ooled baguette slices. Top with a dollop of fruit compote. Serve immediately. Compote can be made in advance and refrigerated.
Seafood Chowder
Fry up some celery and onions in butter till softened. Add about 3 Tbsps. flour and stir till mixed. Add a can of clam nectar and about an equal amount of light cream. Stir till mixed well and add a potato or two cut up into cubes. Simmer for about 10 minutes or till potatoes soften.
Buy some seafood that you like - I got about 5 prawns, a small piece of salmon and some chunks of snapper and cod. I then fried them all quickly in butter till barely cooked, threw them in the soup cut up into smallish pieces. Lots of pepper, and any herbs you want.
Or there is Ian McEwan/Henry Perowne's Fish Stew recipe.
MUSIC: CAT POWER
A-
from Stylus Magazine
The reclamation of the American South has not been limited to hip-hop. An increasing number of artists—Frank Black and My Morning Jacket to name a couple—have recently tapped the region’s resources, from dated recording equipment to idle session warriors. These efforts have gone far beyond R.E.M. and Elephant Six’s Faulkner-ized mysticism, focusing less on the Dixie’s arcane, gothic romance and more on the enduring sonic memories the region birthed through the first half of the 20th century. Cat Power’s Chan Marshall is the latest student of the South, her musical ideology inching closer to her native Georgia since 1998’s Moon Pix. The Greatest, however, is the most fruitful and complete work to come from the underground’s recent fixation, an album of surprising compromise and lasting faith.
Recorded in a week with a group of Memphis session veterans—Mabon and Leroy Hodges among them—on The Greatest Marshall effectively receives her Southern inheritance: buoyant horn fills, mercury Telecaster leads, sawing violins. Dusty Springfield’s Dusty in Memphis is the obvious touchstone, but Springfield defied expectations by approaching Southern soul as a white, British diva. Marshall is a daughter of these sounds, and The Greatest sounds less like a reach for new sonic frontiers as the hazy underbelly of the folk-blues skeletons Marshall has been propping up for over a decade.
Springfield was famously too intimidated to sing in front of the legendary band she’d contracted; in contrast, Marshall sounds settled, if not completely comfortable, in front of Hodges and company, her sparse piano chords allowing the band ample room to mold their infallible country-soul. Infallible, and inspiring: the true value in The Greatest lies in the way the band consistently shifts Marshall just slightly out of her comfort zone, forcing her to maneuver tempos, textures, and themes foreign to her work.
This is crucial. Marshall has been predisposed to drifting on past albums, fueled in no small part by her singular and often isolated sonic palette. She is afforded no such luxury on the spry, swinging “Could We,” arguably as bright as Marshall has ever sounded. “Islands” features a familiar melancholy, but the song’s Hawaiian pedal steel intro coerces Marshall to adapt. And adapt she does, transforming a too-familiar pining into high personal drama, singing, “I don’t want no heavy diamonds / And pearls crush my teeth / I just want my sailor / to sail back to me.” Marshall’s fusion of potentially banal sentimentality with desperate, empathetic expression is a constant throughout The Greatest, her newfound economy of image one of the album’s subtle surprises.
The interaction between Marshall’s idiosyncratic songwriting and her band’s traditional ethos manifests fully in “Willie,” a rewrite of Speaking for Tree’s marathon narrative. A lonely horn wonks in the background as Marshall’s coo stirs with an insistent grand piano and cagey guitar chords. Words appear only in spurts: “Second time was through the heart…Willie had a job to do…Please don’t bring him down…He’s on the same side as you.” It is the album’s sonic centerpiece, its sighing majesty the place setter for the blue simplicity of “Where Is My Love,” the wayward “The Moon,” and the Crazy Horse-lite closer “Love and Communication.”
The Greatest isn’t perfect, but its stumbles are neither intrusive nor damning: “Hate” feels reductive, especially at the end of the album, and “Empty Shell” languishes anonymously. But Marshall’s tendency to coast is severed here, a combination of a restless, joyous band and a refreshingly brief twelve-song cycle. It’s important to note that Marshall’s collaboration is no academic exploration, nor is it cut-and-paste revisionism. These songs were born for their arrangements, Marshall’s songwriting tailored for her veteran band the way their tested measures were for her strident, smoky husk.
During the second verse of “Lived in Bars,” Marshall asks “Who’s gonna play drums, guitar, and organ with chorus?” right before the melody goes double-time to keep pace with the newly vibrant brass section, her question answered with a grin. The moment is a miniature of The Greatest’s triumph: Hodges and company humor Marshall for stretches, subtly adding atmosphere and rhythm before forcing her to a higher plane. Marshall’s walking in some tall cotton here, shambling heartily through the South, the blessings of its musical patriarchs clutched proudly in her palm.
BASEBALL
NL EAST
ATLANTA BRAVES Moving in/moving out: The Braves took a double hit when shortstop and leadoff man Rafael Furcal grabbed the Dodgers' big money and closer Kyle Farnsworth took big bucks from the Yankees. The defending NL East champs also saw Julio Franco, a key bench player and half of their first-base platoon, sign with the rival Mets. Atlanta rebounded a bit by trading prospect Andy Marte to the Red Sox for shortstop Edgar Renteria, and bolstered the bullpen somewhat by trading catcher Johnny Estrada to the Diamondbacks for Lance Cormier and Oscar Villarreal. Strangely for the Braves, though, they've been more reactive than proactive.
Lowdown: Second baseman Marcus Giles is penciled in at leadoff right now, and the Braves are still looking for a closer. Chris Reitsma is about all they have. Renteria should return to his All-Star form in the NL. The rest of the team is largely intact, including a solid rotation, a lot of good, young position players and some outstanding veterans such as Giles, Andruw Jones and Chipper Jones. That all bodes well for a run at a 15th straight division title. But as far as getting better, the Braves didn't.
GRADE: Still shopping, still trying to catch up -- C.
FLORIDA MARLINS Moving in/moving out: Faced with an ownership mandate to slash payroll, the Marlins tore down a deep and contending team by trading away tons of talent. Gone are first baseman Carlos Delgado (Mets), pitcher Josh Beckett (Red Sox), infielder Mike Lowell (Red Sox), catcher Paul Lo Duca (Mets), center fielder Juan Pierre (Cubs) and second baseman Luis Castillo (Twins). Free agents Jeff Conine (Orioles), A.J. Burnett (Blue Jays), Todd Jones (Tigers) and Juan Encarnacion (Cardinals) left too.
Lowdown: The franchise's two youngest and best stars, pitcher Dontrelle Willis and now-third baseman Miguel Cabrera, are about all that remains. They'll be joined by a load of possibly talented but definitely untested prospects that the Marlins got in all those trades. The Marlins signed Joe Borowski to close, and Pokey Reese to play second base, but for the most part, you're going to need a scorecard to figure out who these guys are.
GRADE: Gutted, just like the bosses wanted -- B.
NEW YORK METS Moving in/moving out: No NL team benefited more from the Marlins' selloff than the Mets, who traded for first baseman Carlos Delgado and catcher Paul Lo Duca, both of them All-Stars who plug gaping holes. Mets GM Omar Minaya also landed the closer he needed, signing free-agent lefty Billy Wagner (four years, $43 million), cleared some salary by trading right fielder Mike Cameron to the Padres for new right fielder Xavier Nady, and signed solid bench players in Julio Franco and Jose Valentin. A late trade sending surprisingly good starter Jae Seo to the Dodgers in exchange for righty relievers Duaner Sanchez and Steve Schmoll added depth to the bullpen.
Lowdown: Minaya didn't get Manny Ramirez after all that talking, but that is about the only significant player the Mets wanted who wasn't lured to Queens. With a blockbuster offseason, every part of this team is better, with the possible exception of the starting pitching depth now that Seo is gone. The shortcomings at catcher and first base have been filled wonderfully, the bullpen problems are addressed and the bench is better. If the Mets stay relatively healthy and their creaky rotation doesn't fall apart, the Braves will face their toughest test in more than a decade.
GRADE: Money and good trades pay off -- A.
PHILADELPHIA PHILLIES Moving in/moving out: New GM Pat Gillick completed his biggest offseason task when he traded first baseman Jim Thome to the White Sox for center fielder Aaron Rowand. Gillick couldn't talk closer Billy Wagner into staying, so the Phils settled on former Yankees setup man Tom Gordon. The Phils also traded starter Vicente Padilla, signed starter Ryan Franklin and versatile infielder Abraham Nunez and brought in a few bullpen arms in various trades and signings. They also bought a backup catcher.
Lowdown: The Phils spent much of the winter dangling right fielder Bobby Abreu, only to find no takers, and dabbling in other blockbuster talks, only to come up empty. They lost out on Wagner, the closer they really wanted, and are still hurting in the bullpen. They also could have used more help in the rotation (Philly starters had a 4.20 ERA in '05, ninth in the NL). The Thome trade was good, though, because it filled a trouble spot in center, cleared up the first base problem and helped ease the payroll.
GRADE: Not much better, but maybe better off -- C.
WASHINGTON NATIONALS Moving in/moving out: Indefatigable GM Jim Bowden pulled off a whopper of a trade for a slugger: Texas second baseman Alfonso Soriano. But it seems that the Nationals will have to drag him kicking and screaming into the outfield. The Nats are now without outfielders Brad Wilkerson and Terrmel Sledge (both went to the Rangers for Soriano), and free-agent Preston Wilson, who signed with Houston. Contenders for much of 2005 before finishing .500, the Nats lost a couple of free-agent starters, too, in Esteban Loaiza and Hector Carrasco. Bowden tried to offset that in an early trade for San Diego's Brian Lawrence and the later signing of free agent Ramon Ortiz. The Nationals will also have a newcomer at third (Vinny Castilla was traded to the Padres for Lawrence), new infield backup and a new lefty out of the bullpen: veteran Mike Stanton.
Lowdown: The lowest-scoring team in baseball needed punch. Bowden thinks he has it in Soriano, though his numbers undoubtedly will drop from what they were in Texas due to the expanse of RFK Stadium. Soriano, at least, will contribute some offense along with Nick Johnson, Jose Guillen and Jose Vidro. But in losing Loaiza and Carrasco, the Nats' starters took a step back from '05, when they were seventh in the NL with a 4.03 ERA.
GRADE: Lots of motion, not a lot of movement -- D.
NL CENTRAL
CHICAGO CUBS Moving in/moving out: An early push for free-agent shortstop Rafael Furcal went for naught (he signed with the Dodgers), but GM Jim Hendry, under the gun after a 79-83 season, recovered nicely. He traded for Florida's Juan Pierre, who will lead off and play center, both troublesome spots last year, and fortified his bullpen -- another scary spot -- with two better-than-average free-agent signings: lefty Scott Eyre (from the Giants) and righty Bobby Howry (Indians). The Cubs spent $23 million to lock those two up for the next three years. The other noteworthy signing was free agent right fielder Jacque Jones (Minnesota), who won't blast as many homers as the departed Jeromy Burnitz but offers better defense and more on the basepaths.
Lowdown: The restructured and now possibly dominant bullpen should help prop up the always-touchy rotation. The biggest non-pitching question remains at shortstop, where veteran Neifi Perez and 23-year-old Ronny Cedeno will try to do what the Cubs wanted Furcal to do. Still, when the smoke clears, this offseason will be judged on how well the hard-working Pierre does. He improves the defense and, if he's at top form, he'll provide many more RBI opportunities for Derrek Lee and Aramis Ramirez.
GRADE: Improved in the field, in the 'pen and at the plate -- B.
CINCINNATI REDS Moving in/moving out: Pitching was Priority No. 1 for the Reds, and they addressed it -- some -- by dealing away popular first baseman Sean Casey to the Pirates for lefty starter Dave Williams. That wasn't the extent of their moves this winter, but it's pretty close. Adam Dunn now will man first base, leaving the outfield to Austin Kearns, Ken Griffey Jr. and Wily Mo Pena. Infielder Rich Aurilia re-signed, too, and the Reds traded for light-hitting utility man Tony Womack, which should give them some options off the bench. Lefty reliever Chris Hammond signed up. But, so far, there aren't a lot of new faces in Cincinnati.
Lowdown: One new starting pitcher -- and a lower-rung one at that -- won't make a lot of difference for the Reds, who should have learned that last season with Eric Milton. Like a lot of teams, the Reds are leaning on their youngsters (Kearns, Pena, Dunn, shortstop Felipe Lopez, versatile Ryan Freel) and the occasional vet (Griffey, Aurilia) to get them through. But the pitching -- this team has no closer -- is just not there.
GRADE: Too quiet to do any good -- D.
HOUSTON ASTROS Moving in/moving out: Handcuffed by a huge payroll tied up in a few players, the Astros haven't been able to do a lot. The NL champs re-signed catcher Brad Ausmus, a must, along with outfielder Orlando Palmeiro and pitcher Russ Springer. They signed Preston Wilson, who adds to a glut of outfielders. But the Astros will figure out who plays where later. The uncertainty of first baseman Jeff Bagwell's return makes the need for more power in the lineup more crucial. (The Astros hit .203 in the World Series against the White Sox.)
Lowdown: This is, in large part, the same team that worked its way into the World Series, with one huge exception: Roger Clemens. No one yet knows whether the ace will return in '06, and that (along with the inflated payroll) has stymied the Astros. Still, the pitching's good enough to compete, and Wilson is a slight upgrade, offensively, for a team that needs all the pop it can find.
GRADE: Did what they could to get better -- C.
MILWAUKEE BREWERS Moving in/moving out: A surprising .500 team in '05, the Brewers are entering a critical year. Their biggest move was a necessary one: trading first baseman Lyle Overbay to make room for Prince Fielder. GM Doug Melvin made a good deal, getting starter Dave Bush, outfielder Gabe Gross and pitcher Zach Jackson, a former first rounder, from the Blue Jays. The Brewers and Jays also traded to get third baseman Corey Koskie to Milwaukee (for righty Brian Wolfe), and Melvin sent pitcher Wes Obermueller to Atlanta to get back the Brewers' former closer, Dan Kolb. The bullpen, though, is still a soft spot.
Lowdown: After years of ineptitude, the Brewers are seeing their effort at developing talent begin to pay off. With players like Fielder, second baseman Rickie Weeks and shortstop J.J. Hardy, the Brewers have a lot of potential to go with outfielders Carlos Lee and Geoff Jenkins and, now, third baseman Koskie. The team's starters, sixth in the NL with a 4.02 ERA last year, remain largely intact, and now Bush joins them. The big question? The bullpen, which could make or break the Brewers.
GRADE: Slightly better than a .500 offseason -- C.
PITTSBURGH PIRATES Moving in/moving out: GM Dave Littlefield signed a slugger he needed -- Cubs free agent Jeromy Burnitz -- capping a very good run for the Pirates. The Bucs also found a useful hitter and great clubhouse guy in first baseman Sean Casey (who came in a trade with the Reds for lefty starter Dave Williams). Ditto for third baseman Joe Randa (a free agent from San Diego). They also bought reliever Roberto Hernandez (2.58 ERA in 67 appearances for the Mets in '05) and filled out the bullpen. Their closer (Mike Gonzalez) is untested, and their rotation is pretty young. But the Pirates are looking up.
Lowdown: Littlefield would like a little more power from his corner infield spots, but Randa and Casey are respectable at getting on base, at least. The Pirates will rely on the revamped lineup and their young, talented rotation (Oliver Perez, Zach Duke, Kip Wells, Paul Maholm) to get them to .500 or better, somewhere they haven't been since 1992.
GRADE: Safe and steady is starting to pay off -- B.
ST. LOUIS CARDINALS Moving in/moving out: This has been a tumultuous offseason for the reigning NL Central champs. The Cardinals lost most of their outfield when Reggie Sanders signed with Kansas City and Larry Walker retired. Solid second baseman Mark Grudzielanek also left (K.C.) and third baseman Abraham Nunez signed with Philadelphia. Starter Matt Morris (101-62 in eight years with the Cardinals) bolted to San Francisco for a three-year, $27 million deal. The Cards also traded lefty reliever Ray King to the Rockies and saw reliever Julian Tavarez sign a two-year deal with Boston. Reliever Cal Eldred, who appeared in 145 games in the past three years for the Cards, retired.
Lowdown: GM Walt Jocketty isn't one to stand still. Though the Cardinals lost out on a lot of free agents, they did find a decent hitter and a replacement outfielder in Juan Encarnacion, and landed capable outfielder Larry Bigbie from the Rockies in the trade for King. Wayward free agent starter Sidney Ponson was a relatively cheap gamble at $1 million for this year, and the Cards tried to replenish the bullpen with former Mets closer Braden Looper and former Oakland lefty Ricardo Rincon. Free-agent pickup Junior Spivey and Aaron Miles (also from Colorado in the King deal) will probably compete for the starting job at second base. That's a lot of movement, and not all of it is an improvement. But with solid starting pitching, a good closer in Jason Isringhausen, third baseman Scott Rolen healthy again and guys like Jim Edmonds and MVP Albert Pujols still hanging around, the Cards will hope it's enough.
GRADE: Stumble, step up, scramble, start again -- C.
NL WEST
ARIZONA DIAMONDBACKS Moving in/moving out: Continuing their climb from the 111-loss abyss of 2004, the Diamondbacks had tons of work to do and came out ... well, it's hard to say. They dealt disappointing starter Javier Vazquez to the White Sox for Orlando Hernandez, a reliever and a stud center-field prospect. They swapped big-swinging third baseman Troy Glaus to the Blue Jays for starter Miguel Batista and Gold Glove second baseman Orlando Hudson. They picked up catcher Johnny Estrada in a trade with Atlanta. And they signed a starting center fielder in Eric Byrnes. All of them fill holes. But ...
Lowdown: It's very possible that Hernandez and Batista will be worse than Vazquez and Shawn Estes (who signed with the Padres). The two new D'backs certainly are older. Glaus' bat -- no getting around this -- will be missed. Expecting youngsters like Chad Trady and first baseman Conor Jackson to immediately pick up the slack is asking too much. But the beauty in these deals, in Arizona's eyes, is in guys like Hudson, who's just entering his prime, and that young stud center fielder, Chris Young, who has shown great power in the minors. Estrada, too, is a good find if he ever shakes off the collision he had last year with the Angels' Darin Erstad. The D'backs still have problems in the bullpen, and their rotation could be tr?s shaky (Brandon Webb notwithstanding), but there's enough young talent (Tracy, Jackson and others) and veteran know-how (Luis Gonzalez, Shawn Green) to keep things interesting.
GRADE: Maybe better for the future, but not now -- C.
COLORADO ROCKIES Moving in/moving out: The young Rockies went through major growing pains during a 95-loss season in '05, and Colorado's not about to abandon its basic plan now. Still, the Rocks added some experience in free agent closer Jose Mesa, re-signed starter Byung-Hyun Kim and added to their bullpen savvy by re-signing Mike DeJean and trading for St. Louis lefty Ray King. They also traded for a catcher, landing the Mariners' Yorvit Torrealba. What's that? Not excited about any of those guys?
Lowdown: Well, those guys are all useful players, and all are needed, but the Rockies will still ride their youngsters (third baseman Garrett Atkins, shortstop Clint Barmes, right fielder Brad Hawpe, outfielder Matt Holliday) and stumble because of a mostly lightweight rotation in a pitchers' purgatory. That's just life, and near-death experiences, in Coors Field.
GRADE: Youth on the Rocks in Colorado -- C
LOS ANGELES DODGERS Moving in/moving out: Losing a manager and a GM in the span of a month put the Dodgers -- terrible in '05 with 91 losses -- way behind. But once GM Ned Colletti was pried away from the Giants, he went to work and stole former Braves shortstop Rafael Furcal (the Cubs thought they had him), hired new manager Grady Little and generally did not stop for weeks at a time. The Dodgers probably missed on as many players as they got -- Paul Konerko, Manny Ramirez and several big-name pitchers turned them down -- but they did sign Nomar Garciaparra to play first base, Bill Mueller to play third and Kenny Lofton to play center. Colletti also calmed the clubhouse by sending Milton Bradley to the A's. He added two starters by trading for the Mets' Jae Seo and signing Giants free agent Brett Tomko. The bullpen was re-stocked with closer Danys Baez and reliever Lance Carter from Tampa Bay. All in all, an incredible workout for a team that started so far behind.
Lowdown: Whether the Dodgers are better in '06 depends largely on the health of J.D. Drew, Jayson Werth and Garciaparra. But Furcal helps, as does Mueller, while Seo and Tomko at least make up for the free-agent loss of Jeff Weaver. The whole place should be much more upbeat, too.
GRADE: A late start, a really strong finish -- B
SAN DIEGO PADRES Moving in/moving out: The NL West champs (82-80) had next to no hitting in '05, so GM Kevin Towers went on a sign-and-swap frenzy. Towers made sure the Padres kept what good they had by re-signing on-base machine Brian Giles. Then he solidified the strongest part of a pretty good bullpen, getting closer Trevor Hoffman, a San Diego favorite, to re-up. Beyond that, the Padres' moves were truly dizzying. A big breath now ... They dumped uninspiring third baseman Sean Burroughs on the Devil Rays in exchange for uninspired pitcher Dewon Brazelton, then upgraded their offense at third by trading pitcher Brian Lawrence to the Nationals for sometime-slugger Vinny Castilla. They shored up their outfield defense, and added some offense, by trading Xavier Nady for the Mets' Mike Cameron. They lost some offense, though, by trading second baseman Mark Loretta to the Red Sox for catcher Doug Mirabelli, though that was necessary with the loss of free-agent catcher Ramon Hernandez (who signed with Baltimore). Starter Adam Eaton and bullpen stalwart Akinori Otsuka were traded to the Rangers for starter Chris Young and backup outfielder Terrmel Sledge.
Lowdown: The rotation, the best part of the team in '05, may be a little shakier without Eaton and Lawrence. Newcomers Young and free-agent pickup Shawn Estes (from Arizona) aren't quite their equals, though there's always ace Jake Peavy. The previously strong bullpen will be without Otsuka, Chris Hammond and Rudy Seanez, but with Hoffman bearing down on the all-time saves record, it should be good enough. The weak offense has improved, and the defense, a key part of this team in spacious Petco Park, is better with Castilla and Cameron.
GRADE: Getting over that barely .500 hump a must -- B.
SAN FRANCISCO GIANTS Moving in/moving out: You-know-who should be back in 2006, if the Giants are lucky, for 120 or 130 games. That should automatically give a huge boost to the offense. Barry Bonds' return is critical because, for the most part, this has been a sleepy offseason in San Francisco. The starting pitching got a shot in the arm with the signing of righty Matt Morris (three years, $27 million). Longtime starter Kirk Rueter is gone (released last August) and Brett Tomko signed with the Dodgers. The bullpen is a little iffy, too. A trade for Baltimore's Steve Kline (for righty LaTroy Hawkins) and the signing of Tim Worrell looks good, but the loss of steady lefty Scott Eyre (Cubs) was a big blow. Veteran first baseman J.T. Snow, who played in nearly 1,200 games for the Giants over the past nine years, has moved on to the Red Sox, clearing the way for young Lance Niekro.
Lowdown: The Giants should be much improved after a 75-87 showing, but it won't be because of any moves they've made this winter, the landing of Morris aside. The Giants will be better because of the return of Bonds (assuming he's healthy), a full season from closer Armando Benitez (if he's healthy, too) and the improvement of young pitchers Noah Lowry, Matt Cain and Brad Hennessey. If all those things go right, that should be enough to put the Giants in the middle of the division race.
GRADE: Just getting healthy in a quiet offseason -- C.
MY WEEK AS A WAITER
from NYTimes
My Week as a Waiter
By FRANK BRUNI
IT'S 7:45 p.m., the East Coast Grill is going full tilt and I'm ready to throttle one of the six diners at Table M-8.
He wants me to describe the monkfish special. For the fourth time. I hoarsely oblige, but when I return yet again to my riff on the apricot lager mustard, which comes right before my oratorical ode to the maple pecan mashed sweet potatoes, his attention flags and he starts to talk to a friend.
Does he mistake me for a recorded message, paused and played with the push of a button? Doesn't he know I have other tables to serve?
I need to go over and massage the mood at R-5, where one of the two diners has a suspiciously shallow pool of broth in her bouillabaisse, perhaps because I spilled some of it near M-2.
And I need to redeem myself with the two diners at X-9, who quizzed me about what the restaurant had on tap and received a blank stare in response. I'm supposed to remember the beers? Along with everything about the monkfish, these oddly coded table references, more than 10 wines by the glass and the provenance of the house oysters?
I had no idea.
I usually spend my nights on the other side of the table, not only asking the questions and making the demands but also judging and, I concede, taking caustic little mental notes. And it's been 20 years since I walked in a waiter's shoes, something I did for only six months.
But last week I traded places and swapped perspectives, a critic joining the criticized, to get a taste of what servers go through and what we put them through, of how they see and survive us. My ally was Chris Schlesinger, a well-known cook and author who owns the East Coast Grill, in Cambridge, Mass., and has no business interests in New York. So that my presence in the restaurant wouldn't become public knowledge, he introduced me to his staff as a freelance writer named Gavin doing a behind-the-scenes article to be placed in a major publication.
In some ways this restaurant, which opened in 1985 and specializes in fresh seafood and barbecue, was an easy assignment. Its service ethic is casual, so I didn't have to sweat many niceties. Its food is terrific, so diners don't complain all that much.
But its pace can be frenetic, and servers have little room to maneuver among 100 or so tightly spaced seats.
From Monday through Saturday, I worked the dinner shift, showing up by 3:30 and usually staying past 11. I took care of just a few diners at first and many more as the week progressed.
And I learned that for servers in a restaurant as busy as the East Coast Grill, waiting tables isn't a job. It's a back-straining, brain-addling, sanity-rattling siege.
Monday
Pop Quiz and Chop Chop
Every day at 4 p.m., the servers take a pop quiz. This afternoon's questions include ones on how the restaurant acquires its oysters and the color, texture and taste of mahi-mahi.
Before and after the quiz they tackle chores: moving furniture, hauling tubs of ice from the basement, folding napkins. I pitch in by chopping limes into quarters and lemons into eighths. I chop and chop. My fingers go slightly numb.
The servers range in age from their early 20's to their late 40's. Some go to school or hold other jobs on the side. Many would like to do less physically demanding work. All would like to earn more money.
If they put in a full schedule of four prime shifts a week, they might make $45,000 a year before taxes. Almost all of it is from tips. They wonder if diners realize that.
Bryan, a young server with whom I'm training, brings me up to speed on the crazy things diners do. They let their children run rampant, a peril to the children as well as the servers. They assume that the first table they are shown to is undesirable and insist on a different one, even if it's demonstrably less appealing. They decline to read what's in front of them and want to hear all their options. Servers disparagingly call this a "menu tour."
I acquire a new vocabulary. To "verbalize the funny" is to tell the kitchen about a special request. "Campers" are people who linger forever at tables. "Verbal tippers" are people who offer extravagant praise in lieu of 20 percent.
The doors open at 5:30 and soon two women are seated at L-3. They interrogate Bryan at great length about the monkfish, which, in changing preparations, will be a special all week long. He delivers a monkfish exegesis; they seem rapt.
They order the mahi-mahi and the swordfish.
"It's amazing," Bryan tells me, "how unadventurous people are."
How unpredictable, too. During a later stretch, Bryan has a man and a woman at L-3 and two men at L-4. The tables are adjacent and the diners receive the same degree of attention. The men at L-4 leave $85 for a check of $72 - a tip of about 18 percent.
L-3's check is $58, and Bryan sees the man put down a stack of bills. Then, as the man gets up from the table, the woman shakes her head and removes $5. The remaining tip is $4, or about 7 percent.
Tuesday
Ice, Ice Baby
I'm shadowing Tina, who has worked at the East Coast Grill for decades and seen it all. She is handling the same section Bryan did. She offers a psychological profile of a woman sitting alone at L-3, who declared the chocolate torte too rich and announced, only after draining her margarita, that it had too much ice.
"Some people are interested in having the experience of being disappointed," Tina says.
Some people are worse. Arthur, a young server who is fairly new to the restaurant, recalls a man who walked in and announced that he had a reservation, a statement Arthur distrusted. The East Coast Grill doesn't take reservations.
Arthur tried to finesse the situation by saying he was unaware of the reservation but hadn't worked over the previous three days.
"You haven't worked in three days?" the man said, according to Arthur's recollection. "You're going to go far in life!"
At about 9:30, a half-hour before the kitchen stops accepting orders, I take my first table, two women and a man. I ask them if they want to know about the half-dozen specials.
"We want to know everything," the man says.
The statement is like a death knell. I mention the monkfish, but forget to say that it comes with a sweet shrimp and mango salsa. I mention the fried scallops, and I'm supposed to say they're from New Bedford, Mass. But that detail eludes me, so I stammer, "Um, they're not heavily breaded or anything." They seem puzzled by my vagueness and poised to hear more. I've got nothing left.
What unnerves me most is trying to gauge their mood. Sometimes they smile when I circle back to check on them. Sometimes they glare.
In addition to dexterity, poise and a good memory, a server apparently needs to be able to read minds.
Wednesday
Who Really Needs a Drink?
I'm under Jess's wing. She's young, funny and generous with her encouragement. That final quality turns out to be crucial, because after I greet four diners at M-7, I'm informed that one of them has an affiliation with the Culinary Institute of America.
As I walk toward them with a bowl of house pickles, which is the East Coast Grill's equivalent of a bread basket, my hand shakes and several pickles roll under their table. I can't tell if they notice.
But I can tell they don't trust me. I'm tentative as I recite the specials, and I ask one of them if he wants another Diet Coke. He's drinking beer. They all look at me as if I'm a moron.
Jess tells me that enthusiasm is more important than definitive knowledge, that many diners simply want a server to help them get excited about something.
"You've got to fake it until you make it," she says.
I take her pep talk to heart, perhaps too much so. I handle three men at M-6, one of whom asks, "Between the pulled pork platter and the pork spareribs, which would you do?"
I tell him I'd change course and head toward the pork chop.
"It's that good?" he says.
"It's amazing," I say. I've never had it, but I've seen it. It's big, and so is he.
He later tells me, "Dude, you so steered me right on that pork chop."
I serve four young women at M-9. They order, among other dishes, the "wings of mass destruction." Per the restaurant's script, I warn them away from it, pronouncing it too hot to handle. They press on and survive.
One of them later wonders aloud whether to have the superhot "martini from hell," made with peppered Absolut. I didn't even know it was on the menu before she mentioned it.
"Why worry?" I say. "With those wings, you climbed Everest. The martini's like a bunny slope."
She orders it and drinks it and she and her friends leave a 22 percent tip (which, like all the tips I receive, will be given to the other servers). The three men at M-6 leave 20 percent.
Have I become a service God?
Thursday
I'm Really Allergic to Tips ...
Divinity must wait.
It's on this night that I spill bouillabaisse, confront my limited beer knowledge and silently curse Mr. Monkfish at M-8. I move up to an evening-long total of eight tables comprising 20 diners; on Wednesday I served five tables and 17 diners.
I encounter firsthand an annoyance that other servers have told me about: the diner who claims an allergy that doesn't really exist. A woman at X-10, which is a table for two, or a "two top," repeatedly sends me to the kitchen for information on the sugar content of various rubs, relishes and sauces.
But when I ask her whether her allergy is to refined sugar only or to natural sugars as well, she hems, haws and downgrades her condition to a blood sugar concern, which apparently doesn't extend to the sparkling wine she is drinking.
She orders the sirloin skewers, requesting that their marginally sweet accouterments be put on a separate plate, away from her beef but available to her boyfriend. He rolls his eyes.
Pinging from table to table, I repeatedly forget to ask diners whether they want their tuna rare or medium and whether they want their margaritas up or on the rocks. I occasionally forget to put all the relevant information - prices, special requests, time of submission - on my ordering tickets.
At least everyone at M-8, including Mr. Monkfish, seems content. As I talk to one of the women in the group, another server noisily drops a plate bound for a nearby table. A rib-eye steak special skids to a halt at the woman's feet.
"Is that the cowboy?" she says, using the special's advertised name. "That looks really good!"
About an hour later M-8's spirits aren't so high. They're motioning for me, and it's a scary kind of motioning. The two credit cards I've returned to them aren't the ones they gave me.
One of my last tables is a couple at X-1. They take a bossy tone with me, so when the woman asks if it's possible to get the coconut shrimp in the pu pu platter á la carte, I automatically apologize and say that it's not.
It turns out that I'm right. (I guiltily check a few minutes later.) It also turns out that servers make such independent decisions and proclamations, based on the way diners have treated them, all the time.
Friday
Do Not Jump the Shark
Apparently everything up to now has been child's play. Business will double tonight. People will stand three deep at the bar, closing lanes of traffic between the kitchen and some of the tables.
"Like a shark," Chris Schlesinger tells us, "you've got to keep moving or you die."
My chaperone is Christa, who's as down to earth and supportive as Jess. She's supposed to watch and inevitably rescue me as I try to tackle an entire section of five tables, each of which will have at least two seatings, or "turns."
By 7:30, all of these tables are occupied, and all have different needs at the same time. One man wants to know his tequila choices. I just learned the beers that afternoon.
Another man wants directions to a jazz club. Someone else wants me to instruct the kitchen to take the tuna in one dish and prepare it like the mahi-mahi in another. That's a funny I'll have to verbalize, a few extra seconds I can't spare.
I've developed a cough. It threatens to erupt as I talk to three diners at M-6. Big problem. I obviously can't cough into my hand, which touches their plates, but I can't cough into the air either. I press my lips together as my chest heaves. I feel as if I'm suffocating.
The kitchen accepts orders at least until 10:30 on Fridays and Saturdays. I'm dealing with diners until 11. By then I've been on my feet for more than six hours.
Over the course of the night I have surrendered only two tables and six diners to Christa. I have taken care of 11 tables and 32 diners myself. Except I haven't, not really. When my tables needed more water, Christa often got it. When they needed new silverware, she fetched it, because I never noticed.
Truth be told, I wasn't so good about napkin replacement either.
Saturday
Feeding the Hordes
My last chance. My last test. The restaurant ended up serving 267 diners on Friday night. It will serve 346 tonight.
Between 5:30 and 5:50, I get five tables, each of which needs to be given water, pickles, a recitation of the specials and whatever coddling I can muster.
The couple at one table want a prolonged menu tour. I'm toast.
Once again I try to tackle an entire section, seven tables in all. Dave is my minder. He tells me to make clear to diners that they need to be patient.
"If you don't control the dynamic, they will," he says.
I don't control the dynamic. Around 6:30 I ask him to take over a table I've started. As some diners leave and new ones take their places, I ask him to take over a few more tables.
I deliver a second vodka on the rocks with a splash of Kahlúa to a woman at L-9. Before I can even put it down, she barks, "There's too much Kahlúa in that!" Nice to know you, too, ma'am.
I do some things right. I point a couple at L-6 toward the tuna taco, because by now I've tasted it and I know it's fantastic. They love it and tell me they love me, a verbal tip supplemented by 17 percent. The next couple at L-6 barely talk to me, seek and receive much less care and leave a tip of over 50 percent. Go figure.
I do many things wrong. I fail to wipe away crumbs. I don't write the time on one ticket. I write M-12 instead of L-12 on another, creating a table that doesn't exist.
Around 8:45, my shirt damp with perspiration, I hide for five minutes in a service corridor, where I dip into the staff's stash of chocolate bars. Then I suck on a wedge of lemon, a little trick I learned from Bryan, to freshen my breath.
By the end of the night I've served a total of 15 tables comprising 38 people. Some of these people were delightful, and most tipped well, keeping my weeklong average - for a comparatively light load of tables - at about 18 percent.
Some weren't so great. They supported an observation that Dave made about restaurants being an unflattering prism for human behavior.
"People are hungry, and then they're drinking," he noted. "Two of the worst states that people can be in."
I recall a young woman at a six-top who bounced in her seat as she said, in a loud singsong voice: "Where's our sangria? Where's our sangria?" Her sangria was on the way, although she didn't seem to need it, and the bouncing wasn't going to make it come any faster.
Around 11:30 all the servers are treated to a shot of tequila. I drink mine instantly. I'm exhausted. I'll still feel worn out two days later, when I chat briefly on the telephone with Jess, Christa and Dave, who by that point know the full truth about me.
"I think you got a good sense," Dave says.
I think so, too, if he's talking about trying to be fluent in the menu and the food, calm in the face of chaos, patient in the presence of rudeness, available when diners want that, invisible when they don't.
It's a lot, and I should remember that. But I'd still like frequent water refills. And a martini from hell. Straight up.
posted by D @ 5:07 PM
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