Brian Lawrence Live

Saturday, Feb. 24
Pulling a double shift tonight. On the early side, I am stopping by a surprise party given for real estate agent and floral designer extraordinaire Jake Boone by his good friend Barbara Taylor. She’s managed to round-up approximately 50 or so of Jake’s friends and family at Jake’s fabulous Bolton Hill townhouse, and everyone is in costume (this being Mardi Gras week and all). After making my way past a scarecrow ("watch out for those candles, dude!"), an Egyptian mummy and a cowboy, I gradually recognize Andrea Stieff and Liz Nuttle, both of whom are be-wigged and made-up to the max, Andrea in a crown of red curls, and Liz in a sleek black bob; it actually takes me a minute to place Liz. The crowd is raving about the table filled with upscale comfort foods, courtesy of caterer Sascha: mini meatloaves, Southern fried chicken, creamed spinach and, of course, Sascha’s signature bacon-cheese straws. Since we’re covering the party for our Style ‘Entertaining’ pages, I’ve assigned photographer Max Glanville to cover the party, and he’s busily snapping away. I stay long enough for a beer or two, then get ready to head further downtown to Red Maple, where the new a la Mod Body lingerie line is holding a VIP launch party.

With Max in tow, we get to the lounge on the tail end of the lingerie fashion show, and Max is again snapping photos of models and spectators. This new line of “chic, sophisticated, European lingerie stylings” is being produced by founder Susan Rohr, a Baltimorean (and Frederick native) whose day job is as a Hopkins anesthesiologist. The models are beautiful and the pieces they are wearing are gorgeous (I love my job, what can I say?). On the way in I spot Grand Cru’s Nelson Carey in the crowd, and I chat with Susan to get caught up on where she’s going with the line (you’ll be reading more about her in an upcoming issue), and also stop to say hello to Leonard Clarke, one of the owners of Red Maple, who’ll be spinning a DJ shift later tonight. Look for photos from both of these events soon on our Style ‘Social Seen’ part of the Style Web site. View Jake Boone party photos.

Thursday, Feb. 22
I was lucky enough to grab a spot at the sold-out Scotch tasting being held at the popular Bin 604 Wine Sellers in Harbor East. The cold, windy evening made a perfect backdrop for the sipping of whiskies. Inside, the crowd of 25 or so gathered around enthusiastically as 8 different unblended labels were presented for tasting. Being somewhat of a Scotch man myself (though my true love is bourbon), I recognized several esteemed labels, like the McAllen’s, Tallisker and Cranagmore. But some of the other ones were new to me, and I found something appealing about all of them, save one. Talk of “noses” and notes, textures and aftertastes abounded, but the one tasting note that described one of them as referencing “Band-Aids,” was somewhat distressing. It really did evoke a smell/taste of Band-Aids, also somewhat like a chemical essence— like new carpet when it’s been freshly installed. Needless to say, that one was my least favorite. I tried to keep the sipping to a modicum, much to the amazement of two British gals there, who were horrified that I relegated some of my sample remainders to the “dump jar.” (Hey, eight shots of Scotch is a lot!) My drinking companion for the evening was photographer and bon vivant Jim Burger (also known to Style readers for his ‘Town Crier’ column in the past). Also on hand were Allison Parker and her husband Jim Abromitis— Allison, in her capacity as Marketing VP for all the Charleston Group properties, and Jim, who was there for the hooch, like the rest of us. After and hour and a half of imbibing excellent whiskey, Burger and I tottered off to Fleming’s. After all, what can follow up good Scotch except for a great steak? After installing ourselves at the bar, we ordered up a couple of Dewar’s-and-sodas from Cecelia, and I attacked a filet while Burger polished off a ribeye. Waiter Steve Hubbard (who recently came over to Fleming’s from Capital Grille, where he’s been my lunch waiter since they opened) took great care of us as well, making for a truly pleasant evening. Sated, we decided to repair to Canton Square’s Mama’s on the Half Shell for some nightcaps with a couple of pals. All in all, there are definitely worse ways to spend a chilly February evening.

Monday, Feb. 19
I met my friend (and Baltimore Sun society columnist) Sloane Brown for dinner at one of my current favorites, Salt, in Butcher’s Hill. I mention the restaurant in my Editor’s Letter in the new March/April issue of Style as one of the new local establishments specializing in sophisticated bar food. It’s a friendly, comfortable place with stylish interiors, a great bar and a satisfying, eclectic menu. Sloane and I spent a couple of hours catching up on local gossip (all off the record, natch) and she filled me in on details of a big trip she’s taking in a few weeks with some gal pals of hers. Don’t worry— you’ll read all about it in the next big Travel Issue of Style next spring!

Saturday, Feb. 17
I spent the afternoon wondering through the rooms of vendor displays at the first-ever Baltimore Food Expo. Tons of wineries, restaurants, high-end food vendors and cooking suppliers had their wares out on display. I daresay, if one sampled all the free wines and liquors on offer, you could have ended up with quite a buzz on! The beautifully restored rooms on the 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th floors of the Tremont Grand (formerly the Masonic Hall) downtown were the backdrop for all the culinary treats. There were a lot of people there on Saturday, and there had been some other events connected with the Expo in the preceding days— a dine-around town dinner on Thursday, a dinner at Belvedere Square’s Taste on Friday night, and there was to be another Expo-related dinner at Charleston later that night. I stopped and chatted for a while with Caroline, of Caroline’s Cakes on the Eastern Shore. Her bubbly personality is truly a joy— and the exquisite samples of her famous caramel cake (and her equally delectable red velvet cake) didn’t hurt one bit.  At 5 p.m., I headed up to the 5th floor to sit in on a live cooking demonstration by Food Network’s Sara Moulton (she’s also the executive chef for Gourmet magazine). Funny, down-to-earth, and entertaining, she galloped through two dishes— a ham-and egg breakfast dish and a creamy soup— both from her latest cookbook, keeping up her chatty stream of patter the entire time. She regaled us with stories of working with food legend Julia Child on one of her PBS series, and had the enthusiastic audience in stitches. She’s a tiny woman in person— just 5 feet tall. She said that her entire kitchen set at the Food Network is scaled-down specifically for her, so that she appears normal-sized— until someone else steps on to the set, then “They all look like giants.”

Tuesday, Feb. 6, 1:10 p.m.
I’ve just debarked from the Acela train at New York’s Pennsylvania Station into the mid-winter Arctic chill. I bypass the short cab queue and decide to venture walking the nine blocks to the Bryant Park tents at 6th & 42nd. The wind is so cold, it’s shocking. I’d agreed to meet up with Baltimore PR maven Edie Brown at the tents for the 2 o’clock Temperley London show. Since I have a half-hour to kill, I decide to duck into the bar at the Algonquin Hotel two blocks away for a little mid-day warm up. But just as I’m walking up to the hotel, I spy Edie walking briskly in the opposite direction and she flags me down. In tow she has About Faces spa owner Helga Surratt and New York-based custom makeup guru Giella. I stop by a coffee kiosk for a warming cuppa joe, then we head off to the tents to peruse the fashion display vendors who’ve all set up mini-boutiques in the tent lobby. They’re all handing out free samples, so we gather some swag and then head in to the show. Edie has the hook-up with IMP, who produces the shows, and we’re personally escorted to our seats. The show is pretty, if predictable. The fashion press described it as “a Russian theme, with Moulin Rouge gowns worthy of the nobility who fled to Paris in the early 1900s.” I notice that many of the dresses have elaborate metallic yoke collars and that the shirts were flared and flippy— that’s about the extent of my fashion knowledge. And the models were all wearing fedora-style hats. Next, we head in to the 4 o’clock Betsey Johnson show, which is a pretty big production. The clothes are all attention-getting, with Johnson’s signature bright colors and patterns. I notice hip-hop artist/producer Russell Simmons a few rows down at the front of the runway. At the end of the show, Johnson comes out toting a baby (her grandchild, I think) and does her trademark cartwheel for the crowd.  As we’re filing out of the show, I’m approached by two reporters from the Associated Press, who want to know if I’ll answer a few questions about the show, and then, a few more questions about the Superbowl. Apparently, they’re curious to see how much “fashion people” know about sports. I manage to answer 8 of their 10 questions correctly. Not quite sure where that’ll turn up, though. I bid goodbye to the ladies and head out, finished with fashion shows for the day.

5:30 p.m.
Armed with a steaming cup of Starbucks skim latte, I wander a few blocks of Fifth and Madison avenues, then hail a cab further downtown to the newly renovated (and very hot) Gramercy Park Hotel (we told you about it in the Nov. 2006 issue of Style). I was able to wangle a night’s stay here only through some PR contacts, but it’s worth it. The hotel is small but beautiful, and definitely has a Hollywood vibe, since it’s currently popular with the West Coast set (I’m pretty sure that was an Olsen twin floating through the lobby on the way to the bar).

8:00 p.m.
I’m dining tonight with Larry Klane, who’s the national VP of sales for Timberland footwear. He’s down from New Hampshire for his weekly New York meetings, so the whole Fashion Week scene is not a big deal for him. We’re having dinner at Quality Meats, the new steakhouse on West 58th. Their gimmick is the house-made steak sauce, which they prepare for you table-side. The food is wonderful (special shout-out to the cheese grits!) and goes well with my Maker’s Mark manhattan. Larry’s an entertaining guy, and I can’t resist asking him how many pairs of Timberland boots his college-age kids have. He laughs it off. “A lot.” Later, I meet a New York photographer friend, and we head over to Rande Gerber‘s Stone Rose bar at Time Warner Center on Columbus Circle. It’s pretty quiet there, so we head down to the Hudson hotel bar, where the crowd is livelier. I call it a night around 12:30.

Wednesday, Feb. 7, 9:30 a.m.
I spend 45 minutes reading the day’s newspapers over coffee in a plush, comfy chair in the hotel lobby. The big news everywhere is about astronaut Lisa Nowak and her arrest. The details about the wig and the diapers is getting big play. One of my guilty pleasures is reading the New York Post, and its corny, sensationalistic approach, referring to her as the “astro-nut” the “whacked-out Nowak.” Fun.

10:30 a.m.
I arrive at The Art of Shaving on Madison at 47th. I always book a straight-razor shave here whenever I’m in New York. There’s something very civilized about the ritual of an old-fashioned barber shave. And with the hot towels and hot shaving cream, it’s even more of a treat on such a cold, blustery day. Afterwards, I stop on the next block at Charles Tyrwitt English shirtmakers. Their neckties are the best, and I snag two that are on sale— one is even marked down further than what’s on its tag— score!

12:20 p.m.
Lunch at Lever House. The chicken Cobb salad here is always perfect, and the dining room is one of my favorites. For dessert, I’m torn between the warm cookies with hot chocolate and the peanut butter, chocolate and banana creme layer cake. The cake wins out.

2:00 p.m.
Heading uptown, I make my usual stops at a few NYC stalwarts: Takashimaya, Saks Fifth Avenue, Bergdorf-Goodman and Barneys. I score another necktie and a cool pair of black Prada loafers at Barneys.

5:00 p.m.
Time for the last show of the trip, Vincent Licari at the Hilton Theatre, just off Times Square. I met Vincent two years ago when we did a Spotlight piece on him in our Men’s Issue. I’d like to think we had a bit of a hand in getting his fashion career going. Shortly after that piece ran in 2005, he produced his first full-blown fashion show downtown at the Lord Baltimore Hotel. Last spring, he produced a small show in New York during the collections, and this season is mounting another show for his newest collection “Night of the Bejewelled Pirates.” He even has a New York-based publicist now. My seat-mate is Tanika White, the fashion reporter for The Sun. She’s in New York for most of the week as well. I’d run into her briefly yesterday at the tents, and we get to catch up and compare notes for a half-hour or so before the Licari show begins. The show is stunning— all gowns, with lots of drama and over-the-top details. One is an all-black number that hugs the upper body, then billows out in a feathery fishtail. Another black number looks almost as if it’s spun from spider webs, which is actually thin strips of leather. The crowd here is smaller— maybe 60 people, but the reception is enthusiastic. Not bad for a 26-year-old from Harford County. This kid is going places.

6:40 p.m.
The Licari show wraps just in time for me to race the eight blocks down to Penn Station to catch the 7 o’clock train back to Charm City.

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