Latest news with #HankWilliams
The Age
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Age
One of Melbourne's favourite falafel crosses the river to get to this southside bar
It's worth coming to cocktail bar Nobody's Baby for the crunchy-fluffy falafel alone. Previous SlideNext Slide 14/20How we score It's mid-evening, dark outside, the trams sound like applause and flash like fireworks. People – young, older, shiny, expensively rumpled – are at new bar Nobody's Baby before dinner, after dinner, for dinner or just for drinks. Speaking of, our next round of cocktails arrives: they're called Fat Bottomed Girls, after the Queen song, or maybe after me. Shaken vodka drinks in long-stemmed coupe glasses, they taste of pepper, honey and lemon with the sesame richness of tahini picking up the Middle Eastern flavours of the food menu. It's all timber and curves in here, the components built off-site in Torquay and installed in three days. Arches separate the bar area from the lounge's booths and banquettes, and the bar itself makes a broad sweep to a DJ set-up, where a cruisy guy mixes in a record by The Police (later, there's Khruangbin, and was that Hank Williams?). It's medium-loud: you're not whispering, nor are you needing to shout. My friends and I are full of falafel and love, at that leaning-all-over-one-another stage of the night. Annalisa pulls my hair back into a ponytail. 'Why don't you wear it like this more?' she asks, taking photo after photo. Emma walks in from the toilet out the back. 'There's a tattoo parlour in the yard,' she tells us, presenting un-inked arms in enquiry. Indeed, when the previous bar tenant Raindancer was here, a patron once finished a drink and followed up with a tatt. Not us, not tonight. I pick up a piece of pickled cabbage and swipe it through zhoug, a Yemeni green chilli relish. A small dog – hitherto hidden under the next table – lets out a polite bark. 'The falafel have a thick, crunchy shell that gives way to a herby, fluffy interior: it's worth coming for these alone.' What is a bar anyway? Restaurants have cocktails, bars serve food, so what actually is the difference between a bar and a restaurant (especially when the bar serves food as good as this)? For me, it's the feeling and the flexibility, rolling from drinks to eats and back again, having people join you later or peel off, the possibility of perching on a stool to ponder life with patrons and pourers alike. The team here knows all that stuff. Tim Badura and Gustavo Prince met at retro bar Joe's Shoe Store in Northcote, which Prince founded (he also owns neighbouring Pizza Meine Liebe). When they landed this place, they invited Shuki Rosenboim and Louisa Allan from Brunswick's Very Good Falafel to bring their pulse-fuelled joy southside. What a move. The falafel here, handmade using a metal press, have a thick, crunchy shell that gives way to a herby, fluffy interior: it's worth coming for these alone. But you may also fall for sumac-cured sardines on challah, roasted Brussels sprouts with pilpelchuma, a Libyan-Jewish chilli and garlic paste, or grilled whiting with harissa and latkes, a perfect assembly of sea, spice and starch. Chicken skewers and lamb meatballs are cooked over charcoal; the chicken is interspersed with plump green olives; the lamb is squished in pita with roasted onion, tahini and amba, an Iraqi-Jewish pickled mango condiment. It's simple and excellent: big flavours, sauces you'll want to swipe your fingers through, and sharp and salty enough to keep you drinking. The obvious nightcap is Baby Brulee, a whisky, Baileys and vanilla concoction with a bruleed top. Ask for it to be torched at the table, making your cocktail an event for the whole room and turning Nobody's Baby into everybody's wondrous child. Good Food Guide.
Sydney Morning Herald
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
One of Melbourne's favourite falafel crosses the river to get to this southside bar
It's worth coming to cocktail bar Nobody's Baby for the crunchy-fluffy falafel alone. Previous SlideNext Slide 14/20How we score It's mid-evening, dark outside, the trams sound like applause and flash like fireworks. People – young, older, shiny, expensively rumpled – are at new bar Nobody's Baby before dinner, after dinner, for dinner or just for drinks. Speaking of, our next round of cocktails arrives: they're called Fat Bottomed Girls, after the Queen song, or maybe after me. Shaken vodka drinks in long-stemmed coupe glasses, they taste of pepper, honey and lemon with the sesame richness of tahini picking up the Middle Eastern flavours of the food menu. It's all timber and curves in here, the components built off-site in Torquay and installed in three days. Arches separate the bar area from the lounge's booths and banquettes, and the bar itself makes a broad sweep to a DJ set-up, where a cruisy guy mixes in a record by The Police (later, there's Khruangbin, and was that Hank Williams?). It's medium-loud: you're not whispering, nor are you needing to shout. My friends and I are full of falafel and love, at that leaning-all-over-one-another stage of the night. Annalisa pulls my hair back into a ponytail. 'Why don't you wear it like this more?' she asks, taking photo after photo. Emma walks in from the toilet out the back. 'There's a tattoo parlour in the yard,' she tells us, presenting un-inked arms in enquiry. Indeed, when the previous bar tenant Raindancer was here, a patron once finished a drink and followed up with a tatt. Not us, not tonight. I pick up a piece of pickled cabbage and swipe it through zhoug, a Yemeni green chilli relish. A small dog – hitherto hidden under the next table – lets out a polite bark. 'The falafel have a thick, crunchy shell that gives way to a herby, fluffy interior: it's worth coming for these alone.' What is a bar anyway? Restaurants have cocktails, bars serve food, so what actually is the difference between a bar and a restaurant (especially when the bar serves food as good as this)? For me, it's the feeling and the flexibility, rolling from drinks to eats and back again, having people join you later or peel off, the possibility of perching on a stool to ponder life with patrons and pourers alike. The team here knows all that stuff. Tim Badura and Gustavo Prince met at retro bar Joe's Shoe Store in Northcote, which Prince founded (he also owns neighbouring Pizza Meine Liebe). When they landed this place, they invited Shuki Rosenboim and Louisa Allan from Brunswick's Very Good Falafel to bring their pulse-fuelled joy southside. What a move. The falafel here, handmade using a metal press, have a thick, crunchy shell that gives way to a herby, fluffy interior: it's worth coming for these alone. But you may also fall for sumac-cured sardines on challah, roasted Brussels sprouts with pilpelchuma, a Libyan-Jewish chilli and garlic paste, or grilled whiting with harissa and latkes, a perfect assembly of sea, spice and starch. Chicken skewers and lamb meatballs are cooked over charcoal; the chicken is interspersed with plump green olives; the lamb is squished in pita with roasted onion, tahini and amba, an Iraqi-Jewish pickled mango condiment. It's simple and excellent: big flavours, sauces you'll want to swipe your fingers through, and sharp and salty enough to keep you drinking. The obvious nightcap is Baby Brulee, a whisky, Baileys and vanilla concoction with a bruleed top. Ask for it to be torched at the table, making your cocktail an event for the whole room and turning Nobody's Baby into everybody's wondrous child. Good Food Guide.
Boston Globe
02-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Boston Globe
Hopeful messages about humanity abound in ‘Utopian Hotline' at the planetarium
Though there are a couple of turntables on the work station at the center of the planetarium's circular theater, the show does not focus on the contents of the 'Golden Record.' Instead, the four performers, dressed in matching olive-drab jumpsuits, take turns addressing the audience in hushed tones, through headphones. Advertisement The performance is structured as a thought experiment: What is time, and what is space? What does it mean to be lonely? And how could we make the world a better place? Audience members, who are encouraged to put on their headphones in the lobby before the show begins, are introduced to a series of unidentified voices. They're ordinary people who have left messages through the 'Utopian Hotline' (646-694-8050). The question: How do you imagine a more perfect future? Advertisement On the show's opening night at the museum, responses ranged from thoughts on reforming consumer culture and ending our addiction to guns to a longing for the day 'when phones are abolished and waffles are mandatory.' Once the audience is seated and the lights go down, the performers begin to move around the work station, which is equipped with playback devices and push-button telephones. When an actor picks up a handset and begins to speak, their voice is transmitted to the audience headphones. The effect is dreamy, like an inner voice speaking to your subconscious. Overhead, projected on the dome of the planetarium, we see kinetic images of space travel and an astronaut's view of our 'little blue dot.' Circles abound, from spinning records to rotary dials. During an actor's quiet monologue about sitting on her grandmother's porch, listening to old-time music, the audience is immersed in a bubble-like field of tall grass at sunset. At one point, an actor tees up the computer voice of the late physicist Stephen Hawking, who explains his theory of black holes. The projected images that accompany this are simple geometry – pairs of circles that represent the dance of charged particles, or human attraction. The anecdotes the actors relate seem to come from their own actual lives. One recalls leaving rocks in secret places for childhood friends 'in hopes of making meaning.' Another performer explains how her mother cherished nothing more than family dinner time, during which her children were forbidden to answer the phone. Advertisement 'Don't pick it up,' her mother would warn. 'It could be the future!' If time is linear, the performers suggest, then why are clocks round? It's a never-ending circle, one says. Everything is connected. Experimental electronic music – the kind the mind typically associates with the early days of computer development and space exploration – drifts behind the voices. In stretches, the actors speak their parts as if singing in the round. The women sometimes sing a cappella: haunting versions of 'Are You Lonesome Tonight?' and Hank Williams's 'I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry.' But even if we are truly alone in the universe, 'Utopian Hotline' will leave those who experience it with a welcome sense of tranquility and wonder. We're reminded that humans, like all things, are made of stardust: 'It takes a cosmos to make a human,' one of the performers says. Is anybody out there? The curious-minded may want to attend this otherworldly show to give it some thought. UTOPIAN HOTLINE By Theater Mitu. Presented by ArtsEmerson[cq] and the Museum of Science. Through May 18 at Museum of Science, 1 Science Park. Tickets $25 general, $17.50 museum members. James Sullivan can be reached at .
Boston Globe
16-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Boston Globe
Terry Bradshaw talks Tom Brady, Bill Belichick, and country crooning ahead of Foxwoods show
A four-time Super Bowl Champ, he's also a passionate singer: He had a top 20 country With a handful of Sport Emmys as a personality/analyst under his belt, he channels his energy now into 'The Terry Bradshaw Show' — a mix of stories, laughs, and song — that comes to New England for one night at Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up 'I want everybody leaving there going, 'Oh my god, Joe, this guy's really good!' That's what I'm shooting for' Bradshaw, 76, says with a laugh. Advertisement Q: Tell me about the show you're bringing here. A: It's a high-energy show, off-the-cuff, lots of humor, songs, crowd-interaction. Originally, we created dialog for the show, which opened in Vegas. Then the pandemic hit, that show [stopped]. Which was good, because I didn't like the show. It was too structured. And I'm not necessarily a structured human being. I live life by the seat of my pants. The show needed to reflect that. I took out all the dialogue. Now it's freewheeling, whatever comes to my mind. There are stories I tell, some I forget to tell, songs I sing, some I forget to sing. [laughs] I laugh, have fun. Advertisement Q: Nice. What songs will you sing? I know you've covered Hank Williams. A: I added three Hank Williams songs. One Glenn Campbell, I got a Brooks & Dunn. I do—ohh! I just added a Bobby Bare song. You heard of Bobby Bare? Q: I love him. A: I cover [breaks into full verse of 'Marie Laveau'] Q: That's a classic. A: Sometimes we'll just crack out a couple of gospel songs. I'll talk. Where it ends up, nobody knows — including us. Q: Tell me about the 'personal stories' you mentioned. A: I'll talk about my grandfather, my upbringing, the Steelers, Tom Brady, Louisiana Tech. I cover my life, my football career. Q: What's a Brady story? A: I can't tell you because you'll write it. [laughs] But I'll [tell you one joke]: He's gone from MVP to AARP. Stuff like that. [laughs] Q: I read you had elbow surgery in 1983 A: Isn't that something? I snuck into the hospital under an alias, but we wanted the TB initials. So I came up with Thomas Brady. Q: That's wild. Have you talked to him about that? A: I haven't. I don't know him that well; I'll never know him that well. I just won't. I'm too old. I'm old enough to be his father. I'm in Advertisement Terry Bradshaw brings his show to New England this week. BOEHM LISA Q: What did you think of the Patriots last season? A: I like their quarterback, [Drake] Maye. He showed me something. I like Maye a lot. I've spent some time with Q: What did you think of Bill Belichick going to coach at UNC? A: Oh my gosh! Shocked. Shocked ! I'm not an insider, so I don't know what all happened, but I'm so surprised he didn't land [an NFL] coaching job. But I don't know— Bill's probably got all the money he wants. Maybe he thought: my dad coached at the Naval Academy. He can go and not have to deal with agents. I don't know. I find it hard to believe that he won't be back in the NFL. And I'd think that if any team beats North Carolina, they're gonna go 'Hey! We beat Belichick!' Q: [laughs] True. So you've also acted in so many things. What do you like about acting? A: Nothing. I just did it to meet Burt Reynolds, Sammy Davis, Sally Fields, Matthew McConaughey, Sarah Jessica Parker, Kathy Bates — the list goes on. That's why I did movies. I don't have any interest in it. I love to sing. I'm doing what I love now. Q: Have you loved to sing since you were a kid? A: I have. I used to put a Victrola — oh. Is a Victrola where you crank it? [bursts out laughing] Well, I'd put a record on and sing to Advertisement Q: Did you always want to be a football player? A: Since I was 7. I'll never forget it: It was after church, mother was cooking dinner, my dad was in his chair reading the morning paper, he had the football game on, I told him, 'Dad, I'm gonna play in the NFL one of these days.' I got a football for Christmas, fell in love with it, and had a football in my hand ever since. I worked at my craft. I'm no different than you, maybe always wanting to be a writer. Maybe you were a little bitty girl writing poetry. Q: True. A: We all get exposed to things as a child, you try something and go: 'Oh! That is me.' When I got a football, the love affair started. It's never stopped. Q: I love that. Any New England connections? A: Yes, all my doctors are in Connecticut. I go to Yale for everything but dentistry. My Q: Are you really? A: I am! I'd love to tell you it's on phylogenetics or something, but it's about cancer and how it affected my life as a patient. I wish I hadn't told you that. I wish I'd just left it at 'I'm lecturing at Yale.' All your readers would go, 'Yeah. Ooookay.' Interview has been edited and condensed. Lauren Daley can be reached at Advertisement Lauren Daley can be reached at
