the death of fun. (ok, not really.)

Sorry, kids...this one's gonna be a little heavy on the text, and a little light on photos and travel.

Well. As of last night, KFH is officially over, and so we've been desperately searching for other things to do and events to attend, as goodness only knows whether our dear karaoke will ever come back to us. Our first find this year was another entry on my list of things-to-do-in-Zürich-that-we-haven't-done-yet-but-should-have, and that was a concert at Herzbaracke, which is a little turquoise boat that parks at Bellevue for four months and hosts concerts as a "floating cabaret." I'd been meaning to attend some sort of event there since we moved here--it was parked there when we first came here, after all--and finally got around to it on January 7. 

Boy, was it worthwhile. I wasn't quite prepared for how fantastic a venue it really is.

The boat itself was magical: imagine, if you will, a Swiss-French-gypsy-caravan-cabaret tent--I'm positive that's a thing--on a small boat, and that's roughly what you experience when you walk in. Lots of heavy velvet curtains, classical paintings reproduced on the bare-wood ceiling, chandeliers, a giant stained-glass player piano (complete with drum and xylophone and rhythm bells inside it!) in one corner next to a gramphone-style record player, a bar covered in Art Nouveau-y trinkets, an actual crank-handle organ, and fanciful Swiss-style carved-wood wall decorations everywhere. And all of the really nice waitresses wearing poofy formal gowns and sequined flowers in their hair. It was truly a unique and endlessly fascinating space, and we will certainly attend more shows there in the future, especially considering the level of hospitality we received, as well as the venue size! (Literally, the end of our table was maybe a meter from the stage...)

The view from my seat to the stage curtain. Not so far away.

View from my seat backwards towards the bar.

Before the show started, we had opted to have dinner on board the little ship, and the food--which was introduced to us by the ship's owner and the evening's emcee, an extremely enthusiastic gentleman who waxed rhapsodic (in Swiss German, of course) about the food and drink and upcoming entertainment--was startlingly good. We each started with celery soup containing raisins, almonds, creme fraiche, chives, and strips of red peppers (and served with locally-baked bread), then followed it up with a nice crispy salad with pumpkin seeds, walnuts, and a grainy honey mustard dressing. Because I opted to go vegetarian, I next had a shockingly delicious, crispy, breaded-and-fried eggplant piccata with roasted fennel and orange slices and curried mushed potatoes, and believe you me, I did not regret any of it (despite the fact that I've never before eaten eggplant in any form that I've enjoyed). Mike, on the other hand, had a plate full of veal medallions with the same potatoes, and they actually topped him off later with some pork cutlets (I don't think anyone went home hungry). And then the show began. 

Somehow, I've developed a fascination with what is generally--and loosely--described as Balkan gypsy music*, and so I thought that might be a fun genre to explore aboard the floating cabaret. I was not wrong. We saw the Balkan Orient Ensemble, which is a five-piece ensemble including a Macedonian trumpet player (and vocalist); Turkish zither player (and vocalist); keyboard player (I think also Turkish); and super charismatic Turkish percussionist; and (oddly enough) a Swiss clarinetist. They were spectacularly fun, especially in combination with their amazing Swiss belly dancer (for whom the stage was not quite big enough, but she twirled and twirled anyway). Obviously, they were all having a fantastic time, and that's what I love in a live performance: skill and enthusiasm. (Sorry...all of the following photos were taken on my phone, in relative darkness. And I didn't take any videos, but they have some posted here.)

Belly dancer! She was quite good, and really, really sweet (we got to speak with her after the show).

You would've had to have been dead, to not appreciate how fantastically fun their music was. That was by far the most excited and engaged I've ever seen a Swiss audience, anytime, anywhere. People even got up and danced through the aisle.

This was insane: she did a whirling Dervish dance, in which she just spun in place for the entire length of the song, all the while changing the configuration of her skirts and sleeves for different visual effects. I have no idea how she didn't just topple over a minute or two in. Also, this dance is considered to be too dangerous for women (and, obviously, for society at large), because the goal is for the dancer to become closer to God through meditative dance, and we can't have women doing that, now, can we?

Sadly, I didn't get any photos of the dance she did with an entire tray full of candles balanced on her head, but it was remarkable. As was the rest of the evening...full of tremendous music and dancing; nice, interesting people at our table; and the emcee even gave Mike and I free shots of his favorite plum liqueur at the end of the night. It's no wonder all four months of evenings at Herzbaracke normally sell out quickly. Definitely a Zürich activity worth doing again.

Our next evening out was to see Maria Doyle Kennedy at El Lokal, this interesting little half-pirate half-Mexican Day of the Dead bar (...for lack of a better description) that some of Mike's buddies love, and that was a fun night out as well. She's an Irish actress that you might recognize from such films as The Commitments and The Matchmaker (and she was on Dexter for a while, too), but she's also a singer-songwriter that tours with her guitar-player husband. Their music was a little slow and folk-y for me, but her gorgeous accent and sheer enthusiasm for being in Switzerland were downright charming, and they ended the show with a creative little song set to a 50 Cent sample. (Loved that.) And even more surprising was that the food at El Lokal was actually quite good! We demolished a plate of fava dip, some garlic shrimp, and a big platter of some really nice tapas, and even the marinated anchovies were tasty. 

We weren't in a position to get a good shot of the stage during the performance, but here's a side view of El Lokal itself. Kinda weird, but also kinda fun.

Lastly, but certainly not least, due to my new-found love for this kind of music, I tracked down another Balkan/gypsy concert for us on Thursday, and away we went. And while the venue was nowhere near as outstanding, the music was ridiculous. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Fanfare Ciocarlia: twelve guys from a village in Romania who play the most insanely fast, most fun music I've ever heard. Once again, I posit that you'd have to be dead to not enjoy this.

That's four trumpets, a clarinet, a saxophone, two percussionists, and four tubas. Any band that can support that many tubas is all right, in my book.

This clip doesn't really showcase their musicianship, I just love how everyone gets faster and faster at exactly the same time, as though there were a conductor. But there's not. These guys are good. And those tubas are holding it down back there. (As they did the whole time. Everyone else took a few brief breaks here and there, but those tuba guys were playing essentially the whole time!)

Thought the vocals here were pretty insane, too. There are two of them spouting the words (and that crazy little melody) at an incredible rate of speed.

And finally...this is not even the fastest they played. But it's pretty darn impressive, anyway. They're like a bunched of crazed bees with brass instruments.

And then I came home and spent a bunch of money on their music, and on some other Balkan music in general. I am hooked, people. This stuff makes me want to shimmy and clap and dance around like a crazy person, in the best possible way. Love it.

Lastly, but certainly not least(ly?), KFH itself. When we found out that it was going away, I made a solemn vow to attend every performance until it ends, and until last night, I've been able to make that work. Usually, about the time we're leaving the house, I get all grumpy and I don't like being outside in the cold and I figure that I should absolutely be at home in my PJs right now and I'm too old to be going out this late, but then we walk in the door at Mascotte and up the stairs and all is right with the world. 

Along these lines, I feel I should recount for you the glory that was three weeks ago; it was quite the show. KFH was preceded by their annual Cover Song Contest, which was hilarious and fun and weird and absolutely packed with people. My neighbor Lisa and I only got there for the last 3 or 4 bands, but of them, the best ones by far were the last one--a four-piece ensemble that covered Bon Jovi's "Runaway" (which band and song we've already established that I adore)--and a band that had at least nine people on stage, including a guy on a full keyboard, a saxophonist, and trombone and trumpet players, and did a ska-like cover of CCR's "Proud Mary." It was pretty sensational...and then karaoke started, and the first 3 or 4 songs were by people from the actual bands, which we mere mortals felt was maybe cheating just a little. The performance of the night, though, was by this balding older gentleman wearing a button-down shirt, sweater vest, and blazer, and who looked like someone's grandfather...and then he proceeded to strut and posture his way through "Jumpin' Jack Flash" (and sing the crap out of it) in nothing less than true Mick Jagger fashion. It was outrageous and fantastic, and sadly, I was so amazed by him that I completely failed to take any photo or video.** 

There does exist, however, photographic proof that I am a huge enough idiot to get on stage with people of that caliber...

Thankfully, there's no video evidence of this "performance." And while the best I can offer is mediocre vocals and zero stage presence--sorry, audience!--it is such a rush to get up there. 

(Tried to get in another song last week, but they were only taking the regulars and people who'd never been on stage before. And I even made my poor husband go super early and wait with me to sign up, and then was the third person on the list. Sigh. At least we tried.)

Honestly, the loss of KFH is a tragedy for our little group of regular attendees, and there will be a gaping hole in our lives now that it's gone. In case you were wondering, we weren't actually able to attend the final show last night: there was a concert beforehand which had already been sold out for at least five weeks (!), and in theory, one could have queued up outside to wait for concertgoers to come out so that KFH fans could go in, but we figured that was pretty much a dead end, seeing as how we showed up an hour and a half early, and then waited 20 minutes in line, last week for the last "normal" show. So we met up with some folks at the Widder Bar, instead, and had some fancy cocktails and felt unduly sorry for ourselves while we ate their ridiculously addictive peanuts. (I have no proof, but I think they may be laced with MSG.)

What we're watching: lately, I've been catching up on movies. Frankly, I've seen some downright terrible ones (ok, so the "The Best 10 Movies of [whatever year] That You Didn't See" lists can't all be winners), but we've seen some really good stuff lately, too. Seven Psychopaths (involving a hapless screenwriter, some dognappers, a gangster, and his beloved Shih Tzu) was quite good (even better the second time, actually), and Sam Rockwell is--as always--super brilliant. Red 2, which is silly and fluffy and just as improbable as the first Red, but which is also why I adored it. (Super duper fun popcorn action flick.) Liked The Way Way Back, a somewhat brutal, but also really earnest sorta coming-of-age movie also featuring the amazing Sam Rockwell. The Kings of Summer, another coming-of-age story, which turned out to be this visually lovely little movie featuring one of the more interesting and goofy characters I've seen in a long time. (Really liked this one, and also, it had a really excellent Ron Swanson Nick Offerman in it.) Ooh, and have I mentioned Fright Night? It's the remake from 2011 with Colin Farrell and Anton Yelchin, and it is a genuinely delightful vampire movie. Colin Farrell is awesomely campy, and have seen it twice, very recently. Will probably watch it again in the near future.

What I'm reading: holy smokes, was Jasper Fforde's Shades of Grey good. I can't recommend it enough, nor can I stand it until the sequel comes out. Honestly, this was so good I kept thinking about the characters long after I finished the book. Read it, people. Next was Warbound, the fourth book in the Grimnoir Chronicles series by Larry Correia, and it was just as fun as all the others. That's a pretty well-imagined universe, too, and I really like the way this one ended. Then, because I was still in the mood for fiction, I actually went for Spoiled, a Young Adult novel--gasp!--which was written by the ladies of gofugyourself.com, the only fashion website I care to view, ever. Their writing is hilarious, and their characteristic snark was all over that book. Yes, I felt a bit goofy reading it, but it turned out to be genuinely enjoyable. I tried to read The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat: and Other Clinical Tales, by Oliver Sacks, but the Kindle formatting was so atrocious that I couldn't even get through the first 10 pages. And then I started Receding Tide: Vicksburg and Gettysburg: The Campaigns that Changed the Civil War, by Edwin Bearss...but in all honesty, as much as I find the subject matter fascinating, and the writing actually approachable, it jumped around just a little too much for me to follow. And there are absolutely ridiculous numbers of generals on each side of the conflict, which gave me fits trying to remember who was on which side. (Might have to start over and keep a running list of who's where...!) 

...And then I gave up, and while I hate to admit this, I've started in on some classic trashy fiction: the Interview with the Vampire novels by Anne Rice. Ugh...I feel ashamed even confessing to the fact that I bailed on my edifying nonfiction in order to delve into vampire stories. Interview with the Vampire was decent, but I felt like The Vampire Lestat--the second in the series--was a bit talk-y, and didn't have enough action for me, although it was interesting to have a retelling of parts of the first book from a different character's perspective. And then I had to start the third book, Queen of the Damned, in order to find out what happened after the cliffhanger at the end of book two. This one has strayed too far into graphic violence for me, however, and will probably give me nightmares at some point (I can't watch violent movies, either, people, for this exact same reason), but I at least have to stick with it to see how it ends. 

What we're cooking: made these enchiladas a few weeks ago. Totally and utterly delicious, especially since I swapped out the red chiles for jalapenos and added tons of homemade enchilada sauce. (I blame my husband for this, but I've yet to meet a recipe that couldn't be improved by the addition of spiciness. He's turned me into a heat freak.) Also, I know it's not really cooking, but this dip is just about the most delicious thing one can whip up in just a few minutes. I minced my rosemary, and plenty of it, and definitely used more lemon juice than she has in there...and my mouth is actually watering just thinking about it. You should really just go ahead and give it a try. Go ahead. I'll wait. 

Up next: Moroccan cooking, buffalo steak, and a quick weekend in Torino. And the complete dearth of Karaoke from Hell. Sigh. At least there are things like this, this, this, and this in the world to keep us snickering and entertained. Thanks, Interwebs. 

*The back of a CD I bought recently instructed me to "File under: Balkan, gypsy, brass," so that's what I'm going with here.

**Obviously, I love it when the most unlikely-looking people get up on stage and then rock everyone's socks off. This has happened several memorable times, and if you really want to hear about it, I'd be happy to regale you with tales of unlikely KFH heroes sometime. Feel like I may have gone on enough about it for now, though.