Little Asian Vs. The Piñata

Little Asian has not had the luck to have been around many piñatas in her life. Maybe it's being Asian. We don't deal with piñatas. I don't know why because they are fun little things, but at a party, we don't have decorative animals that hang from a ceiling and jiggle candy inside.

In Long Island this weekend at a party, Little Asian faced her first Piñata . When the task was posed to me, "Little Asian, you must face the piñata ," I didn't know what to make of it. It was a horse like animal with pretty colors decorating it. It seemed harmless enough. Why would I want to blugoen it to death?

But as people kept urging me to take a swing -- I have never fared well in the face of peer pressure (which is really how I became The Drunk Little Asian) -- I couldn't say no. But I couldn't do this without a drink. I quickly made myself a light vodka soda with lemon and drank it. After watching several people face the Piñata (which wasn't being hung from a ceiling, but held up precariously by two partygoers who were bobbing it up and down in the air), I studied the strategy in which people seemed to broach the Piñata. Blindfolded, the partygoers seemed a bit unsure, a little to frantic, and perhaps not violent enough. They seemed sacred of hitting anything too hard, even a nonliving rainbow looking horse. The Pinata was still in tact as if to say No one can break me.

But then the Piñata faced The Drunk Little Asian. As the blindfold was placed around me, I was spun around with a broomstick in my hands. I warned, "I will hit hard. Warn me if I'm aiming for someone's head." As I neared a partygoer's vulnerable skull, I was quickly pulled away and placed in the direction of the pinata. I could hear someone yell, "Hey, what's the point of spinning then?" Well, I personally am glad we didn't play by the rules. Or I would have gravely injured someone.

Finally, I blindly faced down the Piñata . People were yelling, "Go get it!" I didn't know where the hell "it" was so I started thrashing blindly until I heard my stick thrash. As people cheered, I just kept thrashing. But I wasn't detroying it. I could almost hear the Pinata taunt me, You won't break me, Little Asian.

I then heard someone say "Finish it!"It was like that moment in the Karate Kid when Daniel San's archenemy was told to demolish the last of Daniel San. Then Daniel San crane kicks that blond mother fucker to kingdom come. Call this my Daniel San moment. So I swung my stick in it's own sweet arc and hit that seemingly indestructible being with all my might. Finally, someone yelled, "That's it! You did it!"

I tore off the blindfold and there the Pinata lay, on the ground, completely beheaded. The adrenaline high, I raised my stick and speared the Pinata to death. Candy scattered all around.

It was like Christmas. I picked up a Snickers Bar. Hell, I haven't had a Snickers in years. It was my favorite candy when I was younger, around the time I first saw the Karate Kid.

So I devoured that Snickers, the aftertaste sweet in the aftermath of the vodka.

In Massachusetts, They Drink Beeeer

Well, Little Asian spent her weekend in Mass, visiting the sister in law up there. Much beer was talked about, drank and discussed. For a long time now, beer has been the new wine. Beer is much more than PBRs and Bud Lights we've been stupidly sloshing down our throats for years (mind you, Little Asian still likes how cheap those drinks are so she'll keep sloshing them back). It's interesting how we get older, that drinking transforms itself into the taste and complexity of what we're drinking. There's an art to creating such a taste and there's a world of people learning to appreciation that art.

Little Asian will never claim to be a drinking intellect, and she might get a tad cross eyed when the Husband drones on about Saisons. But Little Asian does appreciate the world of beer out there and she's up to trying anything from that world outside of her limited knowledge. So here's to exploring the more beer (within the means of Little Asian's wallet though).

New beers I like so far:
Ommegang Wiite

Prima Pils (Recommended by the sister in law)

Allagash White

Got a beer Little Asian might like? Suggest it my way.

The Ecomony Now Affects Even Drunk Little Asians

Well, it had to happen at some point. Here I was thinking, Life is pretty good. I have a job that can buy me drinks and I'm pretty lucky to have that job. Man, do I regret thinking that. It's when you think you're golden, that you jinx yourself. Well, wham, bam, Little Asian got hit 2009 economy style. I'm lucky. I still got a job for a little while, but come next year, Little Asian might be looking for another job to float the boat she drinks in. It's weeks like this that you're grateful for places with $2 Pabst Blue Ribbons. And if you readers out there know of any places with similar cheap drinks, throw them my way. Because as far as this Little Asian is concerned, that type of drinking is what she'll be consoling herself with for some time.

But let's rouse into the weekend with positive thoughts, it's still summer out here, and at the end of my work day, I'll go a-hunting for that Pabst and I'll be grateful for it.

Little Asian's Drunk Observation of the Week: The Bartender

In Little Asian's opinion, what can make or break your dining or bar experience is a bartender. This is what in Little Asian's mind constitutes a good bartender:

1. They are familiar with you -- if you have a regular haunt, a good bartender gets the etiquette of rewarding the regular drinker at their establishment. Or if you're new to a joint, they make you feel right at home. They don't have to know your name. Not every place is Cheers, but if they know your face, that's a nice plus. And come on, we know when people are familiar with each other's faces. The smile and the hello will be immediate and genuine.

2. They'll give you a buy back. Usually, every fourth drink will be free. Although really fancy smancy places don't do this -- and restaurants definitely don't. It's just the bars themselves.

3. They'll let you have a little taste of the unknown. If you're interested in a particular alcohol, don't know much about it, the bartender will be knowledgeable enough to fill in the gaps as well is be willing to give you a little taste before you commit to the drink.

4. They'll be quick and fast, without looking crazy. They won't make you wait a millenia for a drink and they'll also try to keep the nice facade going.

5. They don't bore you with "this is just my money job", I'm really an "artist" talk. They're a bartender and they know their alcohol. They know the deal, they know the scheme, they know you're there to talk drinking.

And when you do find a bartender like this, they're worth the notice. A particularly great bartender I noticed was over at Franny's, a lovely restaurant in Brooklyn. Her name is Vanessa and she was a superstar. Since it was a restaurant, there were no buy backs, but she was great: one of the fastest, most efficient barkeeps I've ever seen. She kept the orders going, knew her stuff, and never missed a bit. I'd recommend going to Franny's just to get the great service at the bar. And since that great bartender is so hard to find, you better enjoy them where you see them.

Little Asian's Drunk Observation of the Week

You know that great Bruce Springsteen song -- Girls in Their Summer Clothes? If you don't know it, shame on you. Download it. Listen to it. It's great.

Well, here's what I don't get. I know it's been a bit down and dreary in NY. I know it's been raining like God doesn't like us, but come on, chicas! It's summer in NY! So last night when I was out drinking sake all night, I see this lovely thin little Asian on the street with a nice, pretty summer dress and light sweater -- lovely outfit -- except for her LARGE CHUNKY WINTER LEATHER BOOTS! Why are you chicas out there wearing clunky leather boots with summer dresses? It looks weird! It is weird. And Little Asian is so bold to say -- not good drinking attire! Doesn't look sexy and I'm sure you get drunk enough, it'll make you trip all the more easier.

When Bruce said, "Girls in Their Summer Clothes...cool in the evening light...girls in their summer clothes pass me by..." he did not mean with leather boots.

Take a tip from the Drunk Little Asian and The Boss. Flip flop it, sandal it, but don't boot your feet while it's summer in the city.

Little Asian and Sake

Little Asian is lucky enough to have a stomach that speaks to her. Last night, out for sake and delicious ramen -- she has learned -- three shot sized glasses is a lot for a Little Asian. I know -- it's lame, isn't it? A Little Asian that can't take on a little sake. But that being said, Ippudo, a lovely little restaurant on 4th Ave between 9th and 10th gets Little Asian's double thumbs up for a night out. It has THE most delicious pork bun since the dawn of time. That coupled with sake is one tasty drinking night out. But sharing a large bottle of sake did take Little Asian's head for a whirl on the drunken merry go round.

After Ippudo, we checked out Song, a nice little digs on 2nd Ave between 6th and 7th. What impressed Little Asian were the GINORMOUS ccs of beer that they offer. I tasted an interesting Stawberry Rice Wine. I don't think it was my cup of tea, but work a once and a lifetime tasting.

To Trust or Not to Trust A Non Drinker?

Here's a question the Little Asian poses for you: How do you feel about hanging out with peeps that don't drink?

Among Little Asians friends, it's been a common saying, "I just don't trust people that don't drink." Little Asian counted herself amongst these people, but as I grow older, I do wonder what it is about drinking that equals trust.

I suppose it could be -- you trust people that are willing to get as shitfaced as you are. Or perhaps, it can be seen that if you drink, then it means you know how to party and have a good time.

Perhaps it has to do with judgement -- the live and let live aspect of drinking -- because friends that say, "Oh, man, she drinks like a cow" or the "Whoa, what an idiot that guy is for chugging like a demon" -- are they true friends?

Little Asian thinks that she'll always trust a person that can have a good time, that lets her have that good time, but also doesn't sit like a Mormon in the corner and damn you to hell for having a drink or two.

What to Drink on a Sensitive Tummy?

If you have notice the lack of Drunk Little Asian posts as of the past couple of weeks that is because the Little's Asian's been having stomach woes. And to be kind to my stomach, I've taken a short drinking hiatus.

It's a hard thing -- getting older. I remember the days when I could drink 2 or 3 pints of Long Island Ice Tea in a sitting. But as we grow up, the Drunk Little Asian has come to realize the tough truth of adult drinking life -- we just can't get as drunk as we used to. Hangovers are harder, stomachs are softer, and we get drunk easier. We're just not made of the steel of our college years and younger twenties. Not that I'm saying, I'm old, mind you. Just trying to refine myself as a mature drinker.

But what to drink when the stomach feels funny? It depends on your stomach woe really. My personal stomach woe is acid reflux -- so the more the acid, the more the reflux. I have sadly said my farewells to red wine and for the most part beer -- I do occasionally take breaks from that because beer truly is too tasty to ignore forever.

So I have limited myself to mostly white wines, the occasional light cocktail, and am discovering that I like rose wine. But there is much to learn and much to taste even within those drinking limitations.

Here was a drink that was especially kind to the Little Asian's tummy this weekend:

Boxed Yellow and Blue Spanish Rose -- a lovely, affordable boxed wine with a clean, gentle taste. Perfect for a summer afternoon at the beach or just sunning outside.

http://blogs.villagevoice.com/forkintheroad/archives/2009/06/yellowbluegreen.php

Got no $$, what can you drink?

Little Asian is admittedly broke, broke, broke. With a literal 2 bucks to her name. So what can Drunk Little Asians drink then there is no mula to buy the booze? Well, my lovely friends this weekend had a great brunch and came up with an all time great idea for summer cheap boozing.

Got some left over fruits you don't know what to do with? Immersion blend those suckers into yummy fruit juices that go will with your liquor cabinet of vodka, gin, and rum. Put a little umbrella in it and then put on good tunes -- there you go -- instant bar in the realms of your own/or friends homes.

Or if you're lucky like the Little Asian and have some awesome outdoor space in the home, break out some lawn chairs and get out a cooler or wine bucket to fill with ice. Stick in some vino, beer, or whatever cool drink floats your drinking fancy. Kick back, drink your cool drinks and have a ball of a time.

What will you be drinking at the beach?

Well, if the damn rain ever ends (seriously, this is NYC, NOT Seattle), we'll be heading to a nice spot of sand, rolling our good times cooler.

For drinks of choice, I like mango rum mixtures, boxes of quality white wine (not Franzia, folks) -- there is quality boxed white wine to be had out there (I personally like the Pinot Grigio Bandit), and of course there is always a quality brew (best sometimes to buy cheap in bulk since you'll be sunning all day -- perhaps if you can find PBR in a 12 pack -- The Husband always buys Schlitz cheaply).

There's nothing like kicking back with a good book (if you're still sober enough to read), sunning in the sun, and a fresh cold one in your hands.

BTW, keep those drinks looking like Kool Aid or juice boxes so you roll them out to your beach...

Hold Me Steady Part Deux

Wow. That's all I can say about last night's show. My Hold Steady heart literally soared when the night began with First Night, the first song that truly made me fall in love with the Hold Steady. After that and finding out that Music Hall of Williamsburg is the old North Six venue, I knew that an awesome night was bound to happen.

To explain -- Northsix was the sight of my first Hold Steady concert in the winter of 2006 (I think). It was when they were on tour for Boys and Girls in America, and that show has always been my favorite Hold Steady show of all time. There's nothing like the first show of a band you've just discovered you'll love for a long time to come. The album Boys and Girls in America was great enough just to listen to, but the Hold Steady put on one of the best live shows I had ever seen.

The show last night was ALL of Boys and Girls in America, a decent showing of Stay Positive and a smattering of Separation Sunday and Almost Killed Me songs. I had not heard Boys and Girls in it's entirety live since that show in 2006. My legs are sore from jumping and my arms are sore from pumping. Last night show equaled the greatness of that first show in 2006.

Music Hall as the revamped North Six is a pretty good venue. It's pretty much a tiny replica of Bowery, but in Williamsburg. Smaller, more intimate, but my sightline of the band was better than Bowery. The one not great note of Music Hall was the inexorably slow bar service. And really, pouring a five buck bottled Bud into a cup, with the foam taking over half of the cup? Why not just give us the damn bottle? That gets a Drunk Little Asian's major thumbs down.

That being said, what made last night even better? While the Hold Steady fans were waiting hopefully for a second encore (which we didn't get), the venue turned on the lights and then played Springsteen's Thunder Road. And as us Hold Steady fans poured out of the venue into the Williamsburg streets, we were all singing along in one great chorus, many of us knowing all the words to one of the best songs of all time.

Hold Me Steady

Well, it's no secret to those that know Little Asian that I adore The Hold Steady. It's probably the only band that I have and will see multiple times (except for the glorious God that is Springsteen). They are my favorite band and in my opinion, have some of the best written songs about partying and nostalgic drinking (and well, of course, so much more...)

Last night was the second night of The Hold Steady four night New York rockganza at both Bowery and Music Hall. Bowery is and has always been my choice venue for concerts -- not only is there a roomy bar downstairs with responsibly priced drinks, but there is not a spot at Bowery that is not a good sightline (which is important for Little Asians).

The Hold Steady always puts on a great show. Must admit, there wasn't as much collective drunk jumping that is indicative of most Hold Steady shows (as in the recent Irving Plaza show). But there are the avid fans that shove themselves (such as me and the Husband) as close as possible to the stage and we all drunk jump together and ignore the lame "I'm too cool for this school of dance" peeps standing in the back.

Good setlist. Was full of Almost Killed Me and a straight row of Separation Sunday songs (both albums I'm still committing to memory), but there was a decent amount of Stay Positive tunes as well (which are all committed to memory as is Boys and Girls). Hold Steady is a show that gets even better when you know all the lyrics to shout out loud. One of the best songs of the night was "Lord, I'm Discouraged." (Damn, that song always makes me teary drunk or sober.)

And what I have discovered about Hold Steady fans? They are awesome concert goers. The six foot five Blondie that towered in front of me graciously stepped back for me and another short concert goer to make sure we had good sight of the band. Why? Because we all understood that everyone should have a good time at a Hold Steady show. That's a rarity sometimes in concert going and the heartfelt gesture made me feel all lovable to all Hold Steady fans. Especially when they air guitar with me throughout the entire show.

Off to my second Hold Steady show tonight...

Where, oh, Where Did Little Drunk Asian Go?

Where did the Little Drunk Asian go? To many and many a places, way too many to count for a single post. The Little Asian got married (with a San Miguel bottle in her hand all night), Little Asian went to Honeymoon (Medalla Light gave her too much acid reflux), and Little Asian has just been chomping around the New York scenery, drinking in New York City spots. Where, oh, where has Little Asian been drinking?

Well, it's summertime, folks, which means, let's find out where to drink and bathe in the sun. Outside bar space is the only place to drink. Well, it would be if it would stop raining like Apolcalypse outside. Here are a couple of Little Drunk Asian's picks to park your hide and knock one back:

1. Gowanus Yacht Club -- Not much of a Club and there are no Yachts, but it's an ideal place to grab 2 buck PBRs and get cheap dogs and burgers in the always lovely Carroll Gardens.

2. The Frying Pan -- Yeah, it's bar where chicks go wearing the littlest amount of clothing possible, but it still is a rocking place to drink on a boat and barge. On the water and swaying with bucket of iced Coronas -- count this Little Asian hanging near this joint in Chelsea.

3. La Quinta Inn Rooftop -- It's pricey, but dude! it's a roof. And what better drinking is there than on a roof?!?

4. Pier I Cafe -- This little Riverside cafe has a rocking view of the river, good food and decently priced beer. What's not to like?

This list will keep on going as the Little Asian keeps drinking. Updates to come.

Drinking in the City? Or Drinking in Your Hood?

The Little Drunk Asian poses this question -- are we getting old when it becomes harder to drink outside our hood? I remember the nights that every night was in the City, every Happy Hour after hours was a City bar, every weekend night wasn't a night until we hopped unto a subway and drank into the late hours of an early morning. I had detailed maps of the best bars in the best City locales.

Now, when a friend asks me, what are the good bars in the City? I draw a bit of a blank. Then I realized why -- I don't really go out much in the City anymore. Sure, I still go to some standby East Village bars (that are very conveniently by my train ride home or a cheaper cab ride home), but other than that? I have no idea what the good bars anymore are in the City.

The bars I more frequent are a little closer to home -- All Brooklyn, all the time. The lovely Sycamore on Courtelyou, a wonderful bar to drink a Saturday or Sunday afternoon away. 773 on Coney Island Ave is a nice place for a cheap brew and only a ten to fifteen minute walk home (no trains and cars needed). There are the standby bars on 4th Ave -- Pac Standard, Cherry Tree and 4th Ave Pub (although I'm a little tired of this trio having frequented these bars a little too much over the last couple of years) . The great Bar Tano on Third Ave, a great place to have a pizza and a white wine right before the evening begins. If you're feeling a little fancy, Black Mountain Lodge in Carroll Gardens is a great wine and cheese place with a roaring fireplace. And as I type out these bars I am so found of frequenting, I realize, yeah, hell, I'm older. And I'm okay with it. I'm a Brooklynite. I don't even remember what it's like to live in Manhattan. Would I move back to Manhattan if I could? Eh. Probably not. If I had more money, I would just get a better Brooklyn apartment. And these bars? Well, they're not wild and crazy, they're mellow, relaxing, a good time for passing the day or night away with a good group of friends. Places where the music isn't overwhelming and you can actually hear what people are saying to you. Places, yes, where you can sit the hell down.

Do these places exist in Manhattan? Sure, they do. I don't particularly know where they are though. If I spent more time in Manhattan, I'm sure I'd find these places. I'm not a snob, I know that they're still great bars in the City. But the places I used to know and be fond of don't exist anymore or they've changed -- alot. Minetta Tavern on MacDougal was a wonderful place to get a ten dollar glass of red wine with a generous pour that was really two or three drinks in one. It's now gone. The Ginger Man used to be a fun hang out spot for a group of people, but now it gets so packed on weekends you barely have room to stand, let alone sit. Blind Tiger still has a great menu of beers, but hell, again, it's loud and I never get to sit down in the overly packed place that it is. The Magician was a fun place to have b-day parties for awhile, but really? The drinks are a bit pricey there and well, I never really feel much of a need to be on the LES on weekend nights. O'Hanlon's is still fun, a good standard old school bar on the week nights, but even my good friend Ace has told me that the weekends are now full with bartenders she doesn't know and a crowd she's not so fond of.

Where or where are these old bars in the city we used to love? I'm willing to go to them, but I'm not going to look for them. I'm happy with being old and in Brooklyn, at places that feel cozy and warm and are not too far from home.

The Little Asian Goes Sober to Game Night

Well, this drunken Asian has not been so drunk as of late, which would explain the absence of new posts. I've been experimenting with drinking in an adult manner -- well, drinking less for the sake of just getting drunk, and drinking more along the lines of well, enjoying the taste of the alcohol I'm consuming. Yes, I am no longer a guzzler. I'm a sipper. And this is what I've discovered.

Mostly, what I've been noticing is how hard it is to meet new people without drinking. Recently, I went to a party -- a party where I new virtually no one, mind you. The Little Asian is professedly a bit shy when in the company of strangers, but I felt that I should go out there and see how sober people mingle. And what I found is that I am vastly inept.

The first thing I noticed was that this party had a lack of plastic cups -- yes, when I saw people were writing their names on the cups, I felt myself flashing back to the cheap ass college days where we could only afford a stash of 25 cups and by the end of the night, that same cup was a sickening flavor of vodka, Carlo Rossi, and tequila shots.

As I was standing around -- cupless -- feeling that it would be quite rude to grab a bottle and start sipping on it or quite vulgar to fish a used cup out of the trash. Don't even ask me why I'm at this party, but I thought it would be adult like to meet new people and I was randomly invited by a random acquaintance to this random party. I'm not saying I needed to get drunk to meet new people, but I needed something to do, something to hold unto, something to sip and look cool and unaffected. I would have been happy with a damn glass of water, but you know -- no cups. And I think the real cups were off limits. I mean, this was the type of apartment where you have to take off your shoes. And side note, I really hate padding around people's apartments (especially in winter) in my white tube socks while stepping in some water or alcohol spilled puddle.

I walked around the room, trying to make eye contact, and I realized that most people at this party didn't know each other and that most people at the party were too sober to make eye contact. I roamed around conversations of the weather, the nice view of the apartment, and well, the weather. And when people were lucky enough to find themselves in a conversation, they clung to that person for dear life, afraid that if that person left them, they would be feeling massively unpopular. I vaguely remember being pinned in a corner with a Asian girl named Kiki who had a high pitched laugh that pierced my ears. And Kiki clung to me. Kiki was a nice chick, but I didn't want her to cling to me. I had to loudly announce that I had to go to the bathroom for her to let me out of the corner.

And there wasn't even music. There was no music to fill the gaps of the awkward conversations. What kind of party was this?

At this point, the host busted out a Scrabble board and a group of people surged forward, grabbing a space around the small board. And then I realized, oh, man, I didn't even know. It's a game night. But even the game nights I had gone to before had had more alcohol, music and multiple games around the room. Not one small game in the center of the room. And as I stared at this small, sad Scrabble board in the midst of this large room, strangers fighting their way to make space for themselves around a board, I realized, Scrabble is a very intimate game. It's a game of close proximity, inside jokes, competitive streaks between friends, bets on whose going to win, making a drinking game out of a game that has nothing to do with drinking. And standing there, cupless, sober, I just didn't have it in me to make a spot by that Scrabble board. So I got up and left.

And sitting at a bar the next day with real friends, we all agreed that games should only be played amongst friends, with multiple cups available for multiple drinks, in the homes of people we know.