I just want to let you know about this beautiful new restaurant that opened right here in Beverly Hills last week. The party was pretty packed so I didn’t get around much, even though the place itself is massive. Looks like a lot of creativity went into it.
There were plenty of varied passed hors d’oevres, my favorite being little potato patties, that were delicious. The bar needed about five more workers, though. Everyone seemed to be having a great time. When I get back to LA, I’ll bring the Femme Fatales there for dinner and do a detailed review then.
Chakra 151 S. Doheny Drive BH
The opening night party for Lynn Redgrave’s “Nightingale” at the Mark Taper Forum was held once again on the top floor of the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, which is such a comfortable venue. Usually I’m not a fan of Patina’s catering, but this time, they served a basic afternoon tea, my favorite repast, because it went with the theme of the show. (It’s about time they caught on to theme parties. That’s Catering 101!) Lynn’s character mentions tea several times, and each time, I salivated for scones. So, I was thrilled when I saw the buffet table.
But an idea is ultimately only as good as its execution, and in this case, it failed. The food itself was awful instead of awesome, which is par for the course with Patina. They could have just served paper mache scones instead of real ones, because they would have tasted better. And how about some cucumbers to go with the mounds of bread? And could you spare more than two types of tea sandwiches? And how about some honey for the tea?
Two years back, I threw a tea party at my house, catered by Back On Broadway Catering, and it blew this one out of the water. On every level, except one: Lynn Redgrave wasn’t my guest of honor. Looks like I’ll just have to throw another tea while she’s in town. And Patina is definitely not invited.
Forget Patina, here’s Back On Broadway’s info:
Back On Broadway Catering 2024 Broadway Santa Monica 310-453-8919
And lastly, here’s a little Halloween story for you, not scary to anyone but me. I had been in kindergarten about only four weeks, when my mother woke me by saying it was the day of the Halloween party. I must have been as leery of everything as I am nowadays, or perhaps this is where it germinated, but I questioned my own mother, who was a school teacher. And I was only five!
She informed me that of course she knows what she’s talking about, that she’s a teacher, and this was indeed Halloween. Though I had just started school, I remember thinking it was strange that they hadn’t sent home a note about it. But, being the dutiful daughter, I donned my bride costume and trotted off to P.S. 99, only to realize everyone was in street clothes!!! Halloween was a week away!
Lois Capson, my line monitor, tried to make it better by letting me lead my class upstairs…after choosing my “husband” to walk with me! I thought I’d die on the spot. But being the femme fatale that I already was, I had a few candidates in mind. Since, my #1 boyfriend, Russell Rubin, was absent, I chose my #2 guy, Robert Rosenthal. (Did I have a thing for guys with double Rs? You decide.)
Sidebar: for the sake of full disclosure, Russell also had two other girlfriends at the time, Amy Rice and Joanne Burton, my best friends. But we were all cool with it. Looking back, what was I even thinking? Robert was really good-looking, but short, while Russell looked EXACTLY like Charlie Brown! But we had the same birthday, January 14, and I love us Capricorns. Also, that made us the oldest kids in the class, and God forbid I should be seen with a younger man. Boy, have times changed.
So back to that fateful Halloween that has shaped my life, to this day. Mr. Amder, the assistant principal, called my mother and chastised her, and made her bring me a complete change, which I just this second realized may be why I always have extra clothing with me at all times. (Writing this column is better than having a shrink!!!)
The odd thing is that I seem to spend all my recent Halloweens in Brooklyn with my mother, at the scene of the crime. I even take her to my old school to vote on Election Day. And relive the whole event, as I have every October of my life, no matter where I am. The only good part of it is that when my mother complains that Mr. X and I aren’t married, I blame it all on her by saying that I’m too traumatized to don a wedding gown ever again. And it just may actually be true. So, mothers, beware of your children’s costumes. We wouldn’t want to cultivate another Karen. One of me is enough.
I wish you all a happy, safe, and trauma-free Halloween. I’ll be living it up in Brooklyn.