Posts Tagged 'Los Angeles'

The Spare Room We All Wish We Had

The Spare Room, Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel

Cocktails and Jenga go well together at The Spare Room in Hollywood

Over recent months spent trolling Los Angeles, wearing down barstool after barstool and downing many a craft cocktail in the name of work for online magazine CitySip.com, I’ve grown fond of several bars along the way. However, one in particular stands out among the masses: The Spare Room at the Roosevelt Hotel in Hollywood. I went there a few weeks ago and have been yammering on about it to anyone who’ll listen to me, ever since. The mezzanine-level lounge not only has a well-stocked bar with educated bartenders who turn mixing drinks into an art, but they have vintage, hand-crafted games and a couple of bowling lanes to boot. Check out some of the other reasons this Hollywood haven is worth a gander, in my recent CitySip article below. It’s like reliving your childhood rainy days, except now you’re actually old enough to drink and it’s completely socially acceptable to play a board game in a bar.

The Spare Room We All Wish We Had

Tiny blocks of wood crash to the table and a crowd gathered round cries out, Jenga! At a nearby booth, two men strategically drop small wooden circles into slots, vying to be first with four in a row. Over by the bronzed industrial bar, a group of young, aspiring actors huddles around a wooden board, lying down lettered game pieces in hopes to earn a triple word score. And there are bowling lanes that flank the gaming tables, run by an official suspender-clad bowling attendant who keeps score on a wall-hanging chalkboard.

Hard to believe all this was once a dusty storage space on the mezzanine level of the historic Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel. Quite aptly named, The Spare Room, the stylish gaming parlor and cocktail lounge opened last January, and quickly established itself as one of the area’s most popular upscale nightlife destinations. Like so many other recent additions to the local craft cocktail scene, The Spare Room draws heavily upon the past, modeled after the private gaming parlors found in 1920s Rockefeller and Vanderbilt properties. It’s replete with vintage furnishing, flatiron style arched windows, custom-designed games and an old-school photo booth.

The Spare Room, Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel

The Ode to Aude is one helluva cocktail

“We’re trying to emphasize social interaction,” said Med Abrous, co-founder of The Spare Room. “The best way to do that is to get groups together, especially with games. You never really get to know someone until you’ve competed with them.”

Abrous and his team are also keen on providing high quality cocktails. The recently released fall menu, designed by Beverage Director Naomi Schimek boasts a variety of warm, seasonal variations on classic cocktails that comprise a broad spectrum of spirits.

“The basis of our cocktail menu is spirit forward,” Abrous said. “We work with high volume but also incorporate fresh juices and appreciate the craft of cocktails. Our goal is to educate – not only the staff here but people who come in, and turn them onto gins and ryes; it’s not just Jack and Cokes.”

Continue Reading…

Sigh, apartment hunting again…

homeless people peeing on carsToday I screamed at a homeless man for peeing on my car. I said the f word a lot. People were probably staring. But I was enraged, as I watched in horror from across the street where I was stuck at an intersection cursing the little electronic white man for not popping up to instruct me to cross. Once he did I stormed over with my shopping bags and fired, “Were you just f’ing peeing on my car!?!??!?” To which he calmly said no, no I wasn’t. And then I screamed some more. And he said, “Look, lady I didn’t pee on your car.”

First off, that is the first time someone has ever called me lady. I look like I’m eighteen years old, so I was kind of flattered. Secondly, by the time I marched over to my car I saw a nice little puddle next to my passenger side door, but sure enough no pee on the car. That I could detect anyways.

I drove off thinking to myself, do I really want to live in Santa Monica? Where I have to worry about parking my car and returning to puddles of homeless people urine surrounding it. What else do they do when you’re not looking? Maybe roll around on the hood with their grimy, sweaty booze-infused skin? Or use my mirrors to pop their zits? Gross, I don’t want to be around to find out. Nevertheless, I’m apartment hunting again and Santa Monica is on the list of potential spots to relocate. It’s beautiful (in most areas), close to the beach, near a gazillion coffee shops and in close proximity to plenty of shopping. Sounds like a dream town. But man, the homeless people are ev-ery-where. Literally everywhere. It’s like having a pet in your yard that you don’t really want, but it always shows up begging for food, booze or use of your bathroom.

I took this picture of two drunk, unconscious homeless people being taken away by paramedics on Lincoln Blvd in Venice. Happens a lot on this corner.

Venice is not much better. Where I work, I’m privy to a front row seat to the crazies that inhabit Venice, including drunks, homeless people, thugs or drunk, homeless thugs. I routinely see people overdose or drink themselves into a coma by the bus stop where several cop cars, ambulances and a token fire truck show up to whisk them off to the hospital to bathe in our tax dollars. Or then there’s the insane, jacked white guy who always has his shirt off and often feels the need to karate chop the nearby bike shop’s sign on the sidewalk or harass the neighboring salon customers as they get their hair did. On slow days at work, this kind of behavior serves as great entertainment. As a place where I’d consider relocating, I don’t think Venice makes the cut.

Then there’s Marina del Rey, where I currently reside and absolutely love. It’s peaceful, quiet, close to the beach and nearby quaint sailboats and massive obnoxious yachts. I live near people who have a lot of money and I like to pretend I do too. Sometimes I go home and cry at night because I actually have no money. But I digress. Living here is damn expensive. I am a young twenty-something girl who has needs, among the most important of which are: need to be by the beach, obviously, and also, need to be somewhere safe so I don’t need to drop kick a mugger’s ass at night when I go to my car. Oh, did I mention I’m a writer? Which should help to further paint my picture of poorness. But! I’ve played sports since the age of nine, so in case I do get attacked or someone is chasing me at night in the ghetto where I will likely be relocating to, at least I can take solace in my ability to run like the dickens. Thanks mom and dad, for making me play soccer as a kid against my will.

A Pisco Sour Competition in the Name of History

Macchu Pisco Sour Competition

The Macchu Pisco Sour Competition inspired a colorful and flavorful variety of pisco cocktails

Recently inducted as one of the 7 New Wonders of the World, Machu Picchu stands as a stunning, historical monument in Peru. Last week was the 100th anniversary of its rediscovery – meaning its introduction to the Western World when American historian Hiram Bingham discovered it. So naturally, Macchu Pisco LLC found it timely to team up with the Consulate of Peru in San Francisco to coordinate a celebration of this milestone, as well as the creation of pisco. Last week Macchu Pisco challenged bartenders in major cities across the U.S. to create their own version of the Pisco Sour (invented in Peru) to represent this historic landmark in presentation, relevance and especially taste.

Check out my CitySip coverage below from the Los Angeles competition, including the badass video montage of bartenders hard at work. And they worked especially hard, knowing there was a grand prize free trip to Lima, Peru to compete against the other city winners. Read on to see the winner and runner ups.

Macchu Pisco Sours Competition, Los Angeles

By Jessica Borges

Macchu Pisco Sour Competition

Zach Patterson - STK, Black Market Liquor Bar

We, as human beings are always looking for reasons to throw a party. The 4th of July has come and gone and Bastille Day is right around the corner but what else can we use for an excuse to celebrate in between those dreadfully long two weeks?


Fortunately, Macchu Pisco has come to the rescue. In celebration of the 100th anniversary of the encounter of famed Peruvian monument Machu Picchu to the Western World, this pisco brand hosted a Macchu Pisco Sour competition spanning the United States. In search of the ultimate liquid incarnation of Machu Picchu to honor the history and reverence of this 7th New Wonder of the World, Macchu Pisco challenged bartenders to create the ultimate representative cocktail. Competitions were held in D.C., Boston, New York, San Francisco and Los Angeles, culminating in Las Vegas on July 7, 2011.

Last week’s Los Angeles competition was held in the Beverly Hills SLS Hotel, hosting twelve LA bartenders, a judges’ panel and a small public audience.  Challenged to whip up unique versions of the Pisco Sour using Macchu Pisco, the bartenders were asked to consider not only taste and appearance of the cocktails, but also historical relevance and representation of this Peruvian monument and milestone. After all, a free trip to Lima, Peru to compete against winners in the other cities for the grand pisco sours competition was on the line. 

Read More About the LA Macchu Pisco Sour Competition

I’m Comin’ Home, Tell the World, I’m Comin’ Home

Diddy’s latest diddy says it perfectly: “I’m coming home”… for a little while, anyways.

Me with the soon-to-be Mrs. Jenn Leeper!

Next week I’ll be on a plane to Boston for a dear friend’s wedding and to spend time with some loved ones. On the docket: Dunkin’ Donuts iced coffee, lots of rug cutting at the wedding post-several adult beverages, cheap seats at a Sox game, delicious Town Spa pizza, fresh Maine lobster and squeezing the F out of my sister’s cat, Gus. And possibly packing him in my suitcase before I head back to LA.

In all of my excitement for my east coast return, and in commemoration of next week being my one year residential anniversary in the Golden State, I’ve posted a few pictures that portray the essence of what has been “home” to me for so many years. Here I go getting all sentimental…

Enjoy these beauties :)

Bridge near Storrow Drive and the Charles River just before sunset. (Boston)

I don't know where she gets this from...

Boston. As seen from the top of the Prudential

College soccer stars

Beautiful park. Love the Boston Common.

New England fan, through and through.

Gus loves cat nip

Can you tell we all have the same last name?

Here's hoping for next year. Come on C's

Sisters

Apple picking in Massachusetts.

Newport Bridge (Newport, RI)

Marathon Monday = Epic

Dance parties

Best grandma in the world. Period.

Del's Lemonade is essential to Newport, RI summers.

"I fawcking lawuv the Sawx." That's how it's spelled phonetically. Look it up.

No words for this. Love it.

Enjoying delicious treats from Modern Pastry in the North End (Boston)

Best part of Boston, the Charles River

Letting it all hang out on Halloween

Halloween isn’t a celebration just for kids. At least that’s the case in West Hollywood, CA. This was made very clear by the thousands of costume-clad adults who flooded Santa Monica Boulevard this past Halloween. It was here that I witnessed the most epic and flamboyant gathering of all ages, nationalities, genders, and mixed-genders.

The 23rd annual Halloween Carnaval lured in over half a million revelers decked out in glitter, feathered outfits, platform heels, and ass-less chaps. With music blaring from nearby clubs and live bands on the streets, bodies danced amongst concealed identities and others simply gawked at the outrageous costumes.

Struck by sensory overload from the whole experience, I let my friend capture some of the scenes we witnessed via photographs. Check out the mini slide show below to see what words just cannot describe.

Click here for a photo slideshow

What began as a gay and lesbian parade in 1987 has expanded to a hugely popular street celebration with men and women of all ages and sexual orientation. Guys dressed like girls and girls dressed like guys, making it difficult to discern what genders were beneath the costumes. Among some of my favorite costumes:

- Lady Ca-Ca (a man dressed as Lady Gaga with disturbing faux boobs exposed and brown poop-like paste smeared all over his costume)

- Antoine Dodson (YouTube phenomenon: “Hide ya kids, hide ya wives…”)

- Facebook “like/dislike” button

- Snookie (Jersey Shore character with a massive hair pouf)

The parade was unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed, and if you have the chance to go next Halloween I absolutely recommend it. The event is free and runs from 6 pm to 11 pm. Parking and traffic is a nightmare, so to retain sanity try arriving early, wear comfortable shoes (you walk a LOT), and park far away so you can get out easily at the end of the night. If you’re not sure what kind of costume to wear, you will be welcomed into WeHo with open arms and some firm ass-grabbing if you simply dress like a whore, pimp, or a racy rendition of the opposite gender.

Moving on up. Again

The next time I revamp my resume I am going to add the job title: Professional Mover. Because I am one. In the last three and a half years I have moved six times. I’m thinking I should stay put for a while so I don’t lose my friends and family, who most likely are screening my calls for fear being asked to help me transport heavy boxes and furniture to yet another destination.

My latest house-hopping experience was unlike any other. I’ve been living in LA for about four months and due to the uninvited residence and succeeding death(s) of some hairy long-tailed rodents in our apartment walls, my roommates and I were forced to move immediately. Armed with face masks to avoid the smell of our dearly departed rat friends, my roommates packed up their things and I braved the stench while packing, au natural. All three of us got sick.

Under the gun to find a new apartment, while battling a war against the landlord who claimed the dead rat smell was actually a dead computer battery in the wall (what??) and that we were being dramatic, we spent almost two weeks calling in exterminators, the Health Department and some lawyer friends to help our case. How the landlord was able to claim a dead computer battery caused that smell and also impressively left behind some rodent-sized droppings along the roof and vents still puzzles me.

 

I'm sure this is what our dead rat friend looked like in our wall. But we'll never know because our landlord refused to cut the wall open to remove it.

 

 

During the time we spent crashing at friends’ apartments while house hunting, we returned to find we were paying rent for not only rat carcasses, but a large family of bugs and flies. Who wants to visit me in LA now? No?

Fortunately we’re out of the rat house now, and are in the process of setting up our new place, thanks in part to two of our new Mexican friends, Francisco and a man with the mustache. In the past, as I mentioned, I’ve recruited friends and family to help move my junk, but since I’m 3,000 miles away from them and my two roommates didn’t have reliable friends here to recruit either, we decided to hire some professionals. We found them outside of a Home Depot, among dozens of other Mexican men (note: I am not certain all of these men were Mexican, though they were of some Latino descent) who flooded our car as soon as we pulled up. They knew we were moving and needed their help, and they needed our money.

To my knowledge, this kind of stuff doesn’t happen in Boston.

After a Home Depot employee threatened to call the police if we didn’t leave (pretty sure what we did was illegal), we grabbed two Mexicans and hit the road with our 16 foot Budget rental truck. Oh, I’m also putting Professional Truck Driver on my resume too. By some grace of God, I successfully trucked our belongings around LA in this beast of a vehicle without smashing into any cars, mailboxes or small children. See how badass I am?

Last year when I moved to a new apartment in Boston, I drove a 17 foot UHaul a half a mile down the street and scraped a parked car, resulting in $800 dollars worth of damages, and a unique way of meeting our new neighbor. Clearly the 16 foot truck was a better choice.

I do highly recommend stopping by Home Depot if you need help moving or building things. I can only speak for those in LA, but there were a lot of able-bodied workers there willing and ready for a job at a minimal price tag (we paid $100 total for 4 hours worth of efficient help and a lot of stair climbing). That way you give a job to someone who actually wants it, and you don’t make all of your friends and family hate you for dragging them into manual labor. Everyone wins!


Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 175 other followers

Categories

Jessica’s Twitter


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 175 other followers