A Corner of France in Farringdon
There’s a regular at Bouchon Racine who appears to have worked out the perfect way to have lunch. He lives in South Kensington and, on most weeks, will take the boat to London Bridge, before making the short walk to his favourite restaurant. He always sits at the patron’s table, which is slightly tucked away from the other handful of tables in a room that feels a bit like a secret. He arrives at 12PM and has a long three course lunch with a bottle of claret.
“That’s a very nice way to have lunch, isn’t it?” says Henry Harris.
A Requiem for Doomed Bottles
I think most can appreciate the magic of tasting great bottles of wine. The anticipatory hush as corks are pulled and wine is cautiously poured. The sense of possibility, as haunting aromatics rise from the glass. Finally on tasting, we’re overwhelmed by the humbling notion that we’re consuming history itself. Drinking the product of grapes ripened by long-set summer suns.
Now, bear with me because I don’t want to be a downer, but today we’re not talking about these gilded moments. Oh no, we’re going to talk about the eerie Gothic doubles of the great bottles. We’re talking about the wrong ‘uns…when hope falls apart.
Chad Etting Paints the American Everyday
There’s a bit of mystery to a Chad Etting painting. Applied loosely to canvas, the artist might reference a local car dealership, regional flora, a small tennis club, and snapshots of his own personal history, ‘Lonely in Alphabet City in 2007,’ one might read, the view from a bedroom window, or a bank-sponsored baseball event. Autobiographical and irreverent, a touch of folky Ed Ruscha in the way he uses text and Americana as tools. Etting is also someone who’s lead an interesting life, he’s been a maths and art teacher and currently works at a University near his New Hampshire home, developing his practice by, as best he can, trying to paint something new every day.
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