Meet Me at the Hn'ya'(pqi'n'n, Jimmy Two Wolf Moon, Jimmy Two Wolf Moon

The Coeur d'Alene Casino, that gigantic, shiny chunk of schist and glass out in the middle of nowhere, has recently finished a massive expansion/remodel and today is the day of official grand opening celebrations. Starting at 11 am, Chief Allan of the Coeur d'Alene Tribe and Dave LaSarte Meeks, CEO, will be hosting the dedication in the new "Skycatcher" area of the hotel/casino (skycatcher? I think I used to have a really ugly one of those things that my hippie aunt gave me to hang over my bed), tribal elders will be breaking out the giant scissors and cutting ribbons, and a drum group will be on hand to perform an "honor song" (Lady Gaga's "Alejandro" perhaps?)

Along with the expansion come a few new places to grab a bite or have a cocktail in between rounds of spending all your child support money in the coin slot of the "I Dream of Jeannie" nickel machine. Interestingly, these new eateries all pretty much have names that are going to confuse the heck out of anyone who wasn't raised on the Coeur d'Alene Reservation 100 years ago. They make me wish I would have signed up for Snchitsu'umshtsn instead of French at N.I.C.

Once upon a time, if you were in the middle of gambling and got a hunger pang, options were either the full-on indulgence of the High Mountain Buffet or the pizzas and cold-cut sandwiches of the snack bar. With the expansion, the Casino has added the Ts'elusm Steakhouse (translation: "stand before the fire"), which sounds pretty lush and lovely and is most likely mean and cruel to the pocketbook. The description from the Casino's website sums it up much better than I could:

Our USDA Prime Beef undergoes a 28-day aging process, which includes a full 14 days of drying aging, double the time of most prime beef. Steaks are char-grilled at a consistent heat of 850 degrees over a bed of locally-sources applewood seasoned with mesquite. 

Other entrees emphasize freshness and local sourcing, from Columbia River Steelhead, Salmon Creek Pork Sirloin from Southern Idaho and fresh clams from the Washington coast. We pair these succulent entrees with the rich seasonal bounties our area is blessed with: wild mushrooms, huckleberries, locally-grown veggies from neighboring farms. 

Pair your selection with one of our impressive wines hand selected by our sommelier

Mmmm, meat! According to promotional materials, Hn'ya'(pqi'n'n (no, my cat did not just sit on my keyboard, that's really what it's called) captures "the best of each season", and uses "fresh local ingredients to prepare each dish from scratch." It's "a fun atmosphere delivering comfort food with a twist". Nearly as twisted as your tongue as you try to say Hn'ya'(pqi'n'n, then give up and just call it by its English translation, 'the gathering place".

Items listed among the Chef's Choice items on their menu include a "Butter-basted Ground Short Rib Burger", "Idaho Potatoes and Beer-battered Fish and Chips" and "Handmade Soft Pretzels with Beer Cheese Sauce". I'm particularly excited about that last item - I love those cheese-stuffed pretzel bites that you cook in the microwave and seem particularly delicious after a long evening of bong rips and reruns of the Office, although I usually have my beer on the side rather than mixed into the cheese..

Bar Welukws' tagline is "Our drinks are mixed with fresh pressed juices, local seasonal fruit, and housemade recipes." Honestly, as long as they serve Pabst Blue Ribbon and double shots of Jägermeister, I'm all tickety-boo. "Mixologist's Choice" drinks at Bar Welukws include "The Great Northwest", "The Melon Cruise" and "The Zeppelin", about which it remains undetermined if it was named after 70s classic rock quartet Led Zeppelin (a drink which would most likely consist of Jack Daniels, tight leather pants sweat, Jack Daniels, big curly hair, Jack Daniels, and gnome juice.) Also, this "quiet bar" has a large, handcrafted deck, so you can look at miles and miles of nothingness on the empty Palouse as you sip your foofy drinks.

Don't fret, the old favorite eateries at the Casino are still present. The High Mountain Buffet is still there in full glory, ready to stuff your duodenum full of meat, lobster, and pastries, and the Casino's casual eatery, the Sweetgrass Cafe has recently revamped its menu and expanded it out to 4,533 pages, or at least it seemed that way looking through the .pdf they've posted online.

Last but not least (and most affordable of all) is the Twisted Earth Grill, located in the Circle Raven Golf Course Clubhouse. They just have normal food here, like BLTs and Grilled Cheese Sandwiches, and everything runs in the $5-10 range. $3 will get you an "All American" hot dog, which is exactly what I'll be having so I'll have plenty of cash available afterwards to plug into some of those noisy, blinking machines. When I win big, it'll be a round of drinks on me over at the Bar Welukws. I have a feeling the crazy names of these places will be much easier to pronounce after a few stiff shots of booze.

(Images courtesy Spokesman-Review & CDA Casino)

Disco at the Dive in Sandpoint

Calling a bar a "dive" isn't usually considered a much of a compliment, and it's even weirder when the owner of said bar actually decides to name his establishment that. But it all seems to be part of the hip, post-ironic vibe that owner Junior Solis seems to be trying to create with The Dive (209 N. First Ave.), taking some of the "white trash" elements so prevalent in many area establishments and exaggerating and enhancing them to create a badly-needed nightclub in downtown Sandpoint.

Despite the barn-like interior, mechanical bull and crunchy peanut shells layering the floor, don't expect to see Wrangler-clad cowboys line dancing. DJ B Breaks is behind the wheels of steel on weekends he spins trendier club music than possibly anywhere else in North Idaho, with a banging mix of Dubstep, Hip-House and Breakbreats. Plans for various special events including MMA cage fights are in the works.

Solis, who also owns the adjoining Oishii Sushi, is touting the place as a family-friendly establishment with an affordable menu during daylight hours, but the kiddies get kicked out onto the street at 9 p.m., when the grown-up party begins.

I Googled the Dive to see what I could see and although the establishment itself has no noticeable web presence of it's own, I did find a Bonner County Bee article about the May 15 opening of the nightclub. As one would expect, not every Sandpoint resident is beside themselves with joy about the presence of the potentially rowdy, bright orange new neighbor downtown.

"A Real Local" wrote "As with anything rushed, it looks nothing less than HORRENDOUS.
The color is arrogant and offensive, and I like color." "CDA Sushi" (hmm...) wrote "If you want terrible service and food poisoning eat at the Dive!" And "Knows Better" went all the way dirty with this accusation: " That's all great, but I don't patronize money-laundering operations... "

Well, alrighty then. Sounds like a bunch of jealous sticks-in-the-mud to me. It should be said there were actually more comments in support of the place, many expressing the very true point about the longtime lack of any place for the under-40 set to have fun and party with people their own age amid the endless plethora of wine bars and sleepy cocktail lounges in Sandpoint.

A local blogger named Jenni has already posted quite a few photos of her and her friends partying it up at the Dive, as well as some stories about her wild nights out there (she totally loves the place) on her blog Oh Jenni! Sandpoint resident, Matt Mills McKnight has also captured some shots of the action at the Dive on his blog, Curly Haired Division. But wait, there's more! Scarlette Quille has a review and video of the place on her blog, the Corporate Whoracle.

One thing is for sure, from looking at the massive crowds packing the Dive in some of the web photos I've seen, Sandpoint was indeed desperate for a vital new nightspot. From what I've gathered, I expect it to be a notable success, that is as long as it's owner and patrons can keep the cranky naysayers at bay.

(Photo by DJ B. Breaks)

The Sunshine Inn Restaurant Lounge

The Sunshine Inn Restaurant Lounge
301 W. Cameron Ave., Kellogg,
(208) 784-1186

The only purple hair we expected to see walking into the place was on the heads of Kellogg’s many lovely grannies. So we were mildly bewildered when we slipped out of the torrential summer rain and into the Sunshine Inn to be greeted by a smiling young waitress with shoulder-length vibrant violet locks and rocker girl gear. Her soundtrack was the corny, fist-pumping grunge of Puddle of Mudd’s “She Hates Me” which blared at a delightfully disruptive volume from the open passageway that separates the dining room from the chaos of the attached lounge.

“Anywhere you like, guys!” she hollered over the music and the outbursts of drunken laughter emanating from the just-off-work Friday bar crowd. We were cruising Kellogg looking for dinner and were drawn in by the gigantic, retro-tastic neon sign out front. Bill Woolum, whose dad poured drinks there in the 60’s, recounts his youthful memories of the place on his “Kellogg Bloggin’” website. He describes how then-owners Sig and Bunny Peterson lived in a small apartment behind the lounge and would “come right out of their residence onto the dance floor and circulate, saying hi, drinking right along with their customers, and adding a sense of cheer to the bar.” After years of increasingly seedy ownership and general neglect, the Sunshine and its attached motel sat looking sad and abandoned for a large part of this decade. Current owners Tim and Cheryl Moyer saw potential in the old beast, bringing it up to par and reopening in February 2008.

We were really just expecting burgers and fries, BLTs, tuna melts, that sort of thing. I was too caught up taking in all the oddball rummage sale bric-a-brac to get into the menu right away, but my dining partner was examining it with a dropped jaw. “Woah. Kinda spendy,” he warned. Certainly, the contents of the menu were completely incongruous with the rowdy, truck-stop atmosphere. Back in the golden days when it was known as the “Jackass Room”, it was quite a classy, steak-and-baked-potato destination dining spot. Perhaps the new owners are attempting to recreate that vibe, offering a selection of entrees mostly in the $15-20 price range. No matter, we were starved and somewhat impressed by a few of the options.

We considered an appetizer, perhaps some spinach artichoke dip or the “blistering” hot wings, but decided to nix the idea after reading that all dinners came with trips through the salad bar. It was tough to decide; maybe a nice seafood or chicken fettuccine? Or was I in the mood for Chicken Cordon Bleu, Coconut Prawns or a juicy, 16 oz. Prime Rib with sautéed mushrooms? We considered the hardcore comfort foods under “Specialties” like Chicken Pot Pie, Pork Chops and Applesauce, or Liver and Onions with Bacon. Part of me was still craving a greasy burger but alas, unless the bar side had a menu I wasn’t made aware of, it wasn’t an option,. Ultimately, I decided on the Friday “Chef’s Special”, the Clam Chowder and Seafood Platter, loftily described as a “ship of dreams.”

Sky, our purple haired waitress, breezed by to take our order. She told us to go ahead and help ourselves to the soup and salad bar while she conjured up our beverages. A man ahead of us in line lifted the lid of the soup pot and frowned in horror. “Uh Miss, I think this soup is done for.” I peered inside at an inch of a dried-up, chunky yellow sludge that had allegedly been clam chowder at some point. Sky yelled into the kitchen for a fresh batch and an unseen voice returned with “Sorry folks, we’re all out.” “Well, you can have as much salad as you like,” she offered apologetically, but the options on the bar were quite slim and only a scant few scraps of lettuce remained. “Um, it’ll be a few minutes on that one,” she said.

For some reason, I’d pictured a platter filled with fresh fish, something broiled in lemon butter, maybe crab legs or oyster shooters. I realized my error when Sky set down my plate and explained how they’d lost use of all but one deep fryer. Indeed, this “ship of dreams” was covered in breading and sailing on a sea of hot oil. Everything had to be cooked one item at a time, so the under layer of French fries and mini-shrimp was already cold, the middle layer of oysters and salmon (yes, deep-fried salmon) was lukewarm, and the top layer of cod was hot and somewhat edible (with lots of tartar sauce). Horrifyingly, my dinner pal’s Chicken Fried Steak was served with canned Veg-All, sprinkled with parmesan in an impossible, humorous attempt to make it seem “gourmet”.

We picked at our plates and as the crowd in the next room continued to audibly whoop it up, we began to wish we’d chosen to hit the bar for a liquid dinner instead. Not wanting to seem rude, we asked Sky for to-go boxes and lied “all that salad must have filled us up.” We laughed heartily at the tab, deciding it was worth the interesting experience. Thanking Sky for her efforts and relentless cheer in the face of doom, we exited the Sunshine and returned to the rain.

Karaoke : Tuesday is Moving to Wednesday

Karaoke can be habit forming, and hardcore junkies frequently haunt the same lounges week after week, not only for a momentary fix of sweet stardom, but also to meet with others afflicted with the same addiction. Eventually, bonds form between singers, dramas arise, and it becomes a dysfunctional karaoke family, especially when the evening is accompanied by a $5 bottomless domestic keg special and plenty of Rumple Minz shots.

For the better part of ten years, Tuesday karaoke at ye olde Mik-n-Mac's was one of the busiest nights of the week and was home to my own close-knit karaoke tribe. Our host and "Koala-T" KJ was Jerry, a Neil Diamond lover and an all around nice guy whose mantra between singers is "...and the crowd goes wild." Jerry's fabulous mother Charlene (pictured) always showed up and would amuse us with her many outrageous bar stories and renditions of Roy Orbison and Patsy Cline tunes. We call her "Mom" and she really is our mother figure, bringing baked goods and helping us figure out our lives. Christa was both our bartender and our babysitter, and we must not have driven her too totally cuckoo because she always made a point to request to work on Tuesday nights.

Mik-n-Mac's is now in the history books and it remains to be seen if the new owners will decide to keep karaoke. Thanks to Jessi at Baja Bargarita, our little TV show is rescheduled with a new day and time on a different channel. Baja is beginning karaoke nights on Wednesdays at 7:30 with Jerry KJing, Christa bartending and they're even doing the $5 bottomless keg special. Come down and help break in the new digs, maybe sing your knockout rendition of "Don't Rain On My Parade".

10 Random Songs I've Sung on Karaoke:

1 "Slow Hands" (Interpol) (a recent fave, fun to belt out)
2 "Harmony" (Elton John) (for Sue, its her fave)
3 "Jolene" (Dolly Parton) (in an extra deep voice)
4 "Anarchy in the UK" (Sex Pistols) (only after a LOT of PBR)
5 "I Got You Babe" (Sonny & Cher) (I was always Sonny, Brian was always Cher)
6 "Too Shy" (Kajagoogoo) (always Sam's request)
7 "Ashes to Ashes" (David Bowie) (weirds out the young crowd)
8 "Rock Lobster" (B-52's) (Shannon doing the animal noises)
9 "Angie Baby"(Helen Reddy) (because the lyrics are so odd)
10 "I Know There's Something Going On" Freda (solo Abba duet with Jay)

Jalapenos

Jalapenos
314 N 2nd Ave.,
Sandpoint,
(208) 263-2995.

La Gran Inundación del Queso de Junio 2009

Annoyingly, the TV station interrupted “Bewitched” to issue the warning. Take shelter, they said. Huge thunderstorms were on the way, threatening to drench the late spring afternoon in torrential rain and whip up enough thunder and lightning to make dogs everywhere run for cover under blankets or make cats hide in the back of closets, wide eyed. In the end, the closest thing we’d see to the flash floods that the weather girl was so hyped up about was the high flow of molten cheese threatening to overtake the shallow riverbeds of our hot dinner platters.

“Pshaw,” we said dismissively as we fired up the engine and took off for the day trip we’d been planning all week. We weren’t going to let a few dumb June showers ruin our enthusiasm for the open road. North Idaho’s green byways are gorgeous even in inclement weather, and we spent the early afternoon exploring a few we’d never explored, snapping photos of dilapidated buildings and livestock before our grumbling tummies finally got the best of us.

We were craving Mexican, so we pointed our radars toward Sandpoint’s Jalapenos, located on 2nd and Cedar in a renovated building which once housed the Elks Lodge. Since opening its doors in April 2003, it’s earned a reputation as one of the finest, most authentic Mexican restaurants in the Inland Northwest. One regular customer posted an online review calling Jalapenos “the best Mexican restaurant north of the Mexican border (in our minds anyway)” and that they always made a point of stopping on their way home to Canada where authentic Mexican cuisine is rare to nonexistent. This makes me ponder: are there Canadian restaurants in Mexico?

Ironically, at Jalapenos we managed to finally find a waterfall, something we had been searching for but could never actually find on our last trip through the area. At long last we found one tucked in the back of the Jalapenos lounge, its artifice enhanced by a dim spotlight and some pink plastic flamingoes swimming in the plunge pool. Its noisy cascade added another relaxing undertone to the festive atmosphere of the lounge where we joined a mellow handful of happy hour patrons. Colorful details abound here, including a variety of low-slung Chihuly-esque glass lighting fixtures, the large aquarium full of exotic fish, and some eye catching mosaic tiles arranged in curvy lines on tangerine adobe walls. The faux bamboo umbrellas and towering plants everywhere complete the illusion of dining al fresco at a sunny Oaxacan sidewalk cafe.

I desperately needed a margarita and our hostess, whose attitude was as vibrant as the décor, returned with a frosty blended lime specimen pronto. It wasn’t perfect, the ice wasn’t very well blended and the lime was faint, but it hit the right spot nevertheless. The Jalapenos menu is one of those where everything looks so delicious; it almost hurts to narrow it down to one thing. Pork Carnitas or Steak Ranchero? Spinach Enchlidas or Chicken Picado? The long list of combo platters created further indecisiveness. I wanted to sample a mix of things, so I went with the “Macho Combo”, a trio of a la carte items served with beans and rice. I chose Chile Relleno, Beef Tamale, and Shredded Beef Taco; the best three amigos since Steve Martin, Chevy Chase and Martin Short.

It’s easy to fill up on tortilla chips if the food takes to long to arrive, especially when they’re as fresh and addictive as the ones served at Jalapenos. Thankfully, we avoided this dilemma with the swift appearance of our meals, which arrived just in time to order another margarita. Our server courteously explained the scorching drama of our oven-hot plates, but it was obvious anyway. I could literally hear a bubbling sound from the layers of yellow and white cheese that coated everything on my plate.

I carefully buried my fork deep within, first tasting the Chile Rellano, a dish that isn’t always easy to pull off. I’ve had my fair share of nasty burnt eggs in slimy sauce, but this was perfection, fluffy scrambled eggs and bold green chiles with a light touch of cream cheese. The tamale was also excellent, chunks of tended roast beef nested in a spongy corn cake with a tangy red sauce. Even the simple crunchy taco was taken to a new level, deep fried with the shredded beef inside, and topped with an unusual sweet salsa, an overstuffing of cold fresh lettuce shreds and mucho cheddar. I sampled a few bites of my friend’s Chicken Cilantro; a crispy fried outer layer brought the cilantro and spice, the tender white chicken breast brought the juicy heat, and the avocado brought the cool, creamy contrast. Magnificent.

With top-notch Mexican cuisine and service friendlier than a Tijuana madam, Jalapenos provides Sandpoint with a laid back hideout where the sun always shines year round. We sneaked out of town just as the black clouds were starting to encroach on the remaining daylight hours and the light drizzle on our windshield turned to awe-inspiring sheets of torrential rain. Honestly, we were lost so far into the depths of our fullness we could’ve driven right through Tropical Storm Matilda and not really cared.

Mik-n-Mac's Karaoke

Mik-n-Mac's Lounge
408 N. 4th St.
Coeur d'Alene

The Wild and Weird World of Karaoke Night at Mik-n-Mac’s

“Oh. My. Heck.” I stuttered in amazement. “Where is John Waters when you need him?” I wondered out loud, for the woman seemed to have crawled right out of the notorious film director’s cult classic “Desperate Living.”

I’d noticed the mysterious, hunched-over figure descending into Mik-n-Mac’s a while earlier hidden under a drab green blanket and looking like the old crone in Sleeping Beauty, the one who morphed into the evil witch. It was Karaoke night, and oddball things always seem to occur on Karaoke night, but that night there was an especially peculiar vibe in the air.

The crowd was vivacious as Billy and Sue sang the final hoots and hollers of another rousing rendition of their trademark tune “Dixieland Delight.” The hunched figure shuffled out to the middle of the dance floor and blurted out to anyone listening something along the lines of “Hey! I’m not gonna be disrespected anymore!” followed by a string of curse words shocking even in the context of the bar.

Suddenly, the ugly blanket was tossed away, revealing a polyester jacket and skirt, which also came flying off, revealing a Britney-style schoolgirl outfit, which took quite a bit of effort to remove actually, revealing a rather large and angry looking woman in her early forties, standing there in nothing but black skivvies, her various body parts unraveling themselves in every direction. It was a kamikaze karaoke striptease.

Hesitantly, I looked closer and realized that her arms, chest, and face were covered in handwritten rants and obscenities, self-graffiti done in multicolored permanent markers. Her head was shaved arbitrarily in the style of a slightly diseased Pekinese. Her undergarments gasped for life against the strain of her jelly dance, the disco pulse of a Donna Summer karaoke track causing her to twist her ample body into a frenzied flesh tornado. First, the jaws around the room started dropping in shock as half the crowd struggled to avert their gaze and the other half began cheering wildly, including me.

Outrageous! The bartender flew out from behind me, pointing and snapping her fingers, “Sweetie, you need to put your clothes back on and cool it, right now.” I had to know exactly what on Earth this toothless tyrant’s depraved fit of performance art was all about. Just what made her tick? I’ve always been a loony magnet anyway, so it didn’t surprise me when she emerged from the restroom dressed again in the schoolgirl garb and cornered me directly.

“What planet are you from?” I asked and she proceeded to rattle off a very loosely coherent story which involved getting permanently kicked off the City Link bus system and how since the Sherriff’s Department ignored her cries of injustice she decided to go from bar to bar as a one-woman act of civil disobedience, a lunatic stripper gyrating wildly in the hope of salvation for all those who’ve been banished from buses.

“Interesting,” I replied.”You’re kind of a cross between Courtney Love and Rosa Parks.” She stared at me blankly for a moment then carried on ranting. I do seem to have endless patience for those with funky mind chemistry, those who’s thought patterns run entertainingly out of the norm, those perhaps touched a bit by the freak stick. However, even I was having a hard time pinning this madwoman down as she prattled on conspiratorially, dousing me with saliva droplets and hot vodka breath.

Mercifully, the KJ called my name, and by the time I’d finished singing “Take Me to the River”, the bartender had booted her out the door for going from table to table and soliciting beer money. That’s a tragedy because surely she deserved a tall frosty one for her efforts. I doubt anyone had been so entertained or frightened in ages.

Karaoke Night is never very dull, especially not at Mik-n-Mac’s where longtime host Jerry is the tie-dyed ring master for all the regulars that frequent that particular circus. In addition to having one of the largest song selections I’ve ever seen, Jerry’s also been known to act like Tom Cruise in “Risky Business” and perform ”Old Time Rock and Roll” wearing nothing but Ray-Bans, a dress shirt and underwear. In addition to Karaoke, Tuesdays is for cups of bottomless domestic beer for $5.

The combo of endless Pabst Blue Ribbon and wireless microphones has been known to result in some very unusual performances. Certain regulars are truly fantastic, with most singers at least ranging from not terrible to mostly tolerable.

Some of the performances will make you glad the beer is bottomless. I really root for anyone who chooses to turn in a slip and sing, who’s not afraid to get up there and at least give it a try. No one’s paying attention anyway.

This fact I learned the hard way after delivering show-stopping versions of “Copacabana” or “Fernando” only to land one or two lonely handclaps amid the crowd’s conversational din. To make myself feel better, I invented the convoluted theory that I must be such a good singer that people get busy talking and forget they’re not listening to the radio.

In addition to traditional karaoke each Tuesday, which runs from 8 to midnight, Mik-n-Mac’s has plans to take the idea to the next level on Wednesdays when they’ll be having Rock Band contests. Teams will compete and be eliminated during a series of weekly battles, with the winning band taking home some kind of dazzling prize.

I finally got a chance to play this mega-popular interactive video game with some friends recently and I had a complete blast. The drums were pretty rough for me, but I sang a 96% on “I Wanna Be Sedated” and managed to work the guitar without causing the music to crash and fail. It’s a perfectly logical step up from karaoke and will be a terrific challenge, especially for those who enjoy frequent nips of gin with their juice.

Chow List: Six Local Boozes

1. Coeur d’Alene Brewing Company
*2nd & Lakeside in Cd’A
*Opened in 1980 as TW Fishers
* Varieties include: Huckleberry Ale, Centennial Pale Ale, Lakeside British Ale, Pullman Porter, Rockford Bay IPA, Polar Bear Stout, Vanilla Bourbon Stout, Frozen Lake Winter Ale, Scottish Ale, Amber Ale, Golden Ale, Honeymoon Wheat Hefeweizen.
*Happy hour every day, 3-6 pm, $2 a pint.

2.Pend d’Oreille Winery
*220 Cedar St., Sandpoint
* Established on June 21, 1995 by Julie and Stephen Meyer
*Varieties include: Viognier, Huckleberry Blush, Rosette de Syrah, Merlot, Pinoh Noir, Bistro Rouge.
* Live music every weekend evening at 5:30 p.m.

3.Bardenay
* Next to the pond in Riverstone, Cd’A.
* Opened in 2007, it’s the third Bardenay – the other two are in Southern Idaho.
* All spirits are distilled on site, one variety of alcohol at each location
* Varieties include: Lemon Vodka, London Style Dry Gin, Cane Sugar Rum
* They claim the name Bardenay came from an old sailor term for a cocktail, but I Googled it like crazy and couldn’t find anything about it, so I think they just made it up.

4. Laughing Dog Brewing Company
* Laughing Dog Brewing is a dog friendly brewery.
* Located in the heart of the Selkirk Mountains just outside of Sandpoint in the city of Ponderay.
* Varieties include: Cream Ale, Pale Ale, Sweet Stout, Hot Chihuahua, Cold Nose Winter Ale, Dogzilla Black IPA.
* Taste healthy samples of all varieties in their tasting room or order up a full pint and enjoy with free pretzels and snacks.

5. Coeur d’Alene Cellars
*Tasting zone Barrel Room No. 6 located at 503 Sherman in downtown Cd’A.
* Free tastings are available daily, and guests can try several wines side-by-side with one of their “wine flights”.
* Varieties include: Alder Ridge Syrah, Columbia Valley Viognier, No. 6 Red, O Stillwater Creek Vineyard Syrah pulence, Sarah's Cuvee, L'Artiste.
* Gorgeous, eye-catching graphic design of labels by Signal Point Design.

6. 44 Degrees North Vodka
* Distilled in Rigby from Idaho potatoes, pure Rocky Mountain Water and Idaho state fruit, Huckleberries.
* Originally available in Mountain Huckleberry, the company has recently introduced Rainier Cherry and Magic Valley Wheat flavors.
* Recipe: Huckleberry Hound - Rocks Glass, 44 North Mountain Huckleberry Vodka, Grapefruit juice.
* Reviewed in Playboy Magazine: “For best enjoyment,chill a bottle in the snow next to a hot tub all day.When night falls, fill the hot tub with leeks and beautiful women, then climb in with shot glass in hand.” Huh?

Mik-n-Mac's No Pants Party

Baja Bargarita

Baja Bargarita
115 N. 2^nd St.
Coeur d’Alene
MySpace

Bar plus Margarita equals Bargarita. Pretty canny name for a margarita bar, I’d say. Baja Bargarita is the full name, coined by proprietress Jessi Briseno herself, combining the beachy vibe of the western Mexican state and the nightclub’s trademark beverage. A nice frozen margarita is pretty much the best way to cool down after a long blazing summer afternoon full of lying in the sun like a sizzling strip of turkey bacon and doing nothing at all but re-applying Coppertone and reading Stephenie Meyer novels.

According to Briseno, staff at Baja will make “any flavor of margarita you could possibly dream up and then some.” Her eyes widen with excitement as she improvises endless fruity possibilities using combinations of the already-lengthy list of base flavors, all of which can be made with real frozen fruit. “Peach-Guava...Mango-Lime…Banana-Strawberry,” she suggests. “Hucklenut Waterberry,” I offer, a combo of Huckleberry, Coconut and Watermelon. “Um...” her mouth puckers with the idea. “If that’s what you want babe, you got it.”

Briseno opened Baja in mid-June on 2^nd Street in downtown Coeur d’Alene just south of Toro Viejo Mexican restaurant, after her brother-in-law helped convince her husband, Toro and Baja owner Junior Briseno, into letting her have a go at reinventing the space which hadn’t seen a lot of use lately besides occasional private parties. Jessi pays tribute to the building’s former occupant Sandra Kay’s lingerie shop by giving patrons a free beer if they toss their brassieres up onto the ivy-covered wooden lattice awning that hovers above the main bar area. It looks like she’s already had quite a few adventuresome ladies come through the place, as bras of all variety dangle from the heights of the pergola, a word I’ll now never forget thanks to Baja server Becky Diel who jumped on her internet phone and looked it up online when none of us could remember it.

I asked if it was okay for guys to come in wearing a bra just so they could toss it up there and get a beer. “Why not?” laughed Jessi, “We want to be a place where everyone can totally be themselves, even men in bras or whatever. In fact, a few drag queens would be fun to liven the place up.” Okay, but I was actually thinking of something a little more subtle, like just wearing one over my tee-shirt; I’d look awful silly with makeup and a goatee and I’ll never master high heels.

Clientele at Baja is varied for sure, and a lot of people have been coming in to check it out based primarily on favorable word-of-mouth. In fact, Baja has yet to even hang anything out front identifying itself, although mural artist Robert McNeil is nearly finished with an attention-grabbing sign for the exterior, featuring the silhouette of a shapely gal relaxing in a giant martini glass. Despite the lack of advertising, business has been brisk to busy every night. “Fourth-of-July was slamming, our busiest night so far,” says Briseno. “We’ve had a lot of regulars since then, including the Summer Theatre crowd who I adore; they come in and just let loose and have fun.”

At Baja, that’s easy to do. The atmosphere is distinctly relaxing and conducive to good times, replete with natural wood fixtures and comfortably open spaces like a giant beach cabana with a dance floor. The peach-colored walls and avocado green ceiling make you feel like you’re trapped inside a delicious tropical fruit smoothie. Along with the usual clutter of neon signs and beer placards hang a few items of classic kitsch, including a poster of Mexican film legend Jorge Negrete holding a giant rooster, several oversized wooden parrots on gold hoops, and an ugly abstract painting of some guy sowing his agave that is so reviled by Baja staff, they cheered when Jessi offered to give me the hideous thing. Hey, I actually think it’s pretty cool, and it’ll look great next to my black velvet Elvis.

People love to go bar hopping in downtown Coeur d’Alene, and it’s great to have another stop that’s a regular night club where people can hit the dancefloor and shimmy the night away under a spinning disco ball like a Solid Gold dancer. Or just jerk around arrhythmically, if that’s all you can do. DJ Benny provides the music, playing a mix of current hip-hop and rock hits, but I hear anything goes with Benny and that he’ll play whatever you request with no hesitation. If he doesn’t have your song ready to go, he’ll hop on the amazing interweb and download an mp3 and voila!

In hiring her bar staff, Jessi picked some of the most experienced mixologists around and basically stole them from other bars. Jason Blevins is most recently from the Torch Lounge and Chris Hagen formerly worked at both Mik-n-Mac’s and Parkside Bistro. Ask Chris to make you an Oatmeal Cookie shot, it’s one of the most incredible drinks I’ve tried, and she’s the only one I know who makes it taste like an actual cookie, complete with a cinnamon afterglow. With a full liquor bar, plus a massive selection of brews both bottled and on draught, you won’t be complaining about thirst. If you get the munchies, you can order anything you want from the Toro Viejo menu as long as they’re still serving, and chips and salsa are free for everyone.

Briseno plans on adding karaoke soon and is into to the idea of hosting an open mike night or having live music; she’s open to all possibilities. “When I’m in L.A., I love to hang out at a place called Chewy’s Bar,” says Jessi, pausing to say “Hi!” and wave to a couple of arriving regulars. “I want this place to have the same vibe, with motorcycles out front, a totally mixed crowd, with drinks and food and good times flowing all night long. I don’t want them to think it’s like every other place, I want them to remember it and come back.” If things keep going the way they are, she’ll have to attack bar-hoppers with a giant wooden parrot to keep them away. Baja is open Tuesday-Thursday from 4 p.m. to close, and Fridays and Saturdays from 2p.m. to 2 a.m.

What's The Buzz? July 13-19, 2008

Weekly Recommendations: Try New Stuff, Lumpy!

Sunday 7/13
Today's the perfect day to hit NIC Beach with a cooler full of Peach-Mango Wonder Drink and get some sun on those poor white legs! Wonder Drink is one of several popular brands of Sparkling Kombucha, a bizarre beverage of Russian origin that I've recently become addicted to. Kombucha is one of those definite acquired tastes. It tastes a little vinegary, kind of tart like sour garbage. The first sip is foul, gag-inducing perhaps. The second taste is a little better, intriguing even, and if you've made it that far, you won't mind finishing the rest of it. Cold enough and with the right flavor choice, it can even be refreshing and you can actually feel a significant tingle of effervescent energy, with none of the mystery supplements or high fructose of energy drinks.

Wikipedia defines Kombucha as "the Western name for sweetened tea or tisane that has been fermented using a macroscopic solid mass of microorganisms called a "kombucha colony," usually consisting principally of Acetobacter-species and yeast cultures. It has gained much popular support within many communities, mentioned by talk show hosts and celebrities." Madonna says it's good for you, so drink it!

Pilgrim's Market on 4th Street in Cd'A offers a huge selection of Kombucha, including the fizzy, fruity, easy to inject Wonder Drink, the stinky, fermenty hardcore variety by Synergy, and others inbetween. Your liver will fall back in love with you.


Monday 7/14
Today is local sushi day. Well, every day is local sushi day in Get Out Land. My homegirl Christa raved recently about the newly-installed Sushi Bar that appeared after the dust settled in the Coeur d'Alene Fred Meyer after their latest injection of remodeling botox. She says the sushi was surprisingly fresh and tasty, and that she was charmed by the extremely knowledgeable little old Japanese woman running the show. Best of all, she says, she can get her sushi fix while her raw-fish hating hubby and kids can order their grody corndogs and jojo's or whatever. Amazingly, including all delis and restaurants, there are now 9 places for Sushi in our little berg by my count. Kore o kudasai.


Tuesday 7/15
Handshake Productions deserve a handshake indeed, or at least a high-five for bringing us a ton of live music every summer for many moons now. These are the folks who always put together the concerts at Cd'a and Hayden City Parks, Riverstone concert series, and the concerts at Sherman Square downtown. Speaking of which, you might want to call your favorite Auntie and invite her to Chinese dinner at Canton and to be-bop and swing the night away with the Coeur d'Alene Big Band starting at 6:30 p.m. at Sherman Square Park.


Wednesday 7/16
Stay home tonight, it's just a boring Wednesday. I have an idea. Order an incredible Aegean pizza (olive oil glaze, mozzarella, fresh garlic, spinach, marinated sun-dried tomatoes, feta, oregano). from Nick & Willy's, who now deliver in Cd'A. Follow this link to Yahoo Games and download the trial version of the PC game Cooking Academy. Warning: you'll probably end up wanting to pay for the full version (unless you have "other ways" of going about this task. Shhh.)

Have your pal bring some wine coolers and their laptop so they can download it too, and you can have a Cooking Academy marathon/completion. This game is completely addictive, teaching you dozens of recipes that you create by using your mouse to cut, stir and cook. Bonus points are given for accuracy and speed and you have a series of exams at the end. It's a little clunky at first, but once you get used to it, you'll feel like you're trapped in some kind of virtual Food Network contest. The Casio-fied country music sucks though, so turn it off and put the excellent new Beck album Moden Guilt on repeat instead.


Thursday 7/17
Seems like a good night to validate downtown's new buzz club Baja Bargarita, which is located in the old Toro Viejo lounge on 2nd St., half a block up from Sherman Ave., Baja is the pet project of Ms. Jessi, a fierce Latina diva who tended bar both at Mik-n-Mac's and the Torch before her significant other, Toro owner Junior, gave her some of his space to start her own thang. Joining her behind the bar is legendary liquor mixologist Chris Hagen, also formerly of Mik-n-Mac's and more recently Parkside Bistro. If you've never had an Oatmeal Cookie shot, you need to see Chris asap, because she makes the best ones, period. Baja Bargarita has a nightclub atmosphere with guest DJ's and drink specials, and killer Mexican food as long as the restaurant is still cooking. Jessi and co. are open Tues - Sat from afternoon 'til late. They're just starting up a MySpace thing over here.


Friday 7/18
Sadly, my dear friend Jhanie is preparing to say bye-bye to these lovely shores and head east to Virginia Beach for work purpose. And although he vows to be back in a few short years, when the work project is over, he's still planning one hell of a going away bash at the Corner Bar tonight. Jhanie 's private Leopard Lounge, located in the basement of his Fairmont Loop home, has been the site of a series of packed, jaw-droppingly debauched and hilarious parties over the last five years, including the Studio 54 series, the White Trash parties, and always New Years Eve. If you were lucky enough to attend one of these, it was a night you won't soon forget, filled with loud disco, a full-stocked wet bar, mind-warping food layouts, and a lot of half naked, fully drunk Home Depot staff (Jhanie's employer).

As a last blast, Jhanie and his entourage are taking over the Corner Bar for some Karaoke with Marj one more time. The CB already gets rowdy and weird on karaoke night, but mix in the Leopard Lounge crowd and I'd be surprised if the roof was still attached in the morning.

Saturday 7/19
Lithium.ID are one of the area's tightest punk-grunge influenced live acts, and they've got a headlining gig tonight at the Grail on Seltice Way. These boys are pretty good at the self-promotion thing, flooding MySpace inboxes and bulletin boards with upcoming shows and flyers. I love it, it makes my life much easier when bands send me updates, plus it's made them one of themost name-recognizable bands around. Additionally, there are a gaggle of young opening bands, listed below (links go to their MySpace.)

Reason For Existence: Menacing Spokane Punk.
Juice Falcon: Wyoming Psycho Punk.
Gaglaw: Spokane Surf Punk.
Big Dirty Guns: Spokane Punk Metal.
From Sword to Sunrise: Progressive Spokane Metal

Mik-n-Mac's 11th Anniversary

Mik-n-Mac’s Lounge Steel Anniversary Luau

We stumbled upon the place pretty much by accident. It was moving day, and we were wiped out from hauling my many belongings all the way from Seattle and finally up the long flight of stairs that led to my new downtown Cd’A apartment. Nothing in the world sounded more refreshing than a frosty pint of cheap American brew and some stale, fusty air-conditioned bar air in which to unwind. We decided to just meander the block and a half over to the closest tavern, which happened to be the infamous Waterin’ Hole, a name which was far too glamorous for such a fug-encrusted, sweat-stained pit of redneck hell. Thirst won out over trepidation and we made our way inside from the harsh glare of the summer sun, down the stairs and into the dungeon.

As our eyes adjusted to the dark we started to notice a few things. The scummy ambience was gone, replaced by the sparkle of cleanliness and plenty of insane green paint. Lamps shone that hadn’t seen bulbs in years, and inches of toxic dust had been wiped away from atop ancient bar fixtures. Also quite noticeable right away was the difference in clientele. It was late afternoon, a time when the Waterin’ Hole would have been at its most rowdy, but the room was peaceful and uncrowded. A group of ladies sat up at the bar snickering and chugging bottles of Miller Light, which almost gave them away, but it wasn’t until we saw their softball jerseys and feathery mullets that we really started to clue in.

“Something tells me this ain’t the Waterin’ hole anymore” I said as I examined the rainbow flags and gay pride stickers decorating the mirrors and shelves behind the bar. “Welcome to Mik-n-Mac’s Lounge” smirked the barkeep as she drew our pitcher of beer. “I’m Mac and this is my partner Mik.” Mik and Mac, also known as Rita and Kirsten had been looking for a space in which to open a “non-discriminatory establishment”, a lounge where their many friends and folks of all backgrounds and cultural persuasions could come to relax and dance and be themselves without the threat of being verbally or physically attacked for being different. This was actually quite a revolutionary idea for Coeur d’Alene, back when the bars were full of the kinds of folks who didn’t look kindly at all on alternative ways of life and were just drunk and obnoxious enough to let it be known. “It’s been getting busy on the weekends, you guys ought to come in and check it out” said Rita as we finished our beer and vamoosed, ending the first of hundreds of visits to our new favorite haunt.

Back then, things were so low-budget that the DJ used to set up a folding card table and spin his set right there on the side of the dance floor. A busy night in the early days consisted of around thirty people who all knew each other, but eventually word got out and slowly our secret underground bunker was filled with refugees from other bars and those who came out of curiosity, to gawk at the “freaks” as if they were exotic creatures in the zoo. Actually, most of the newcomers were friendly, and bouncers knew how to uphold the “non-discriminatory” policy and weed out troublemakers. It was inevitable that business would explode; Mik-n-Mac’s was really the best, and sometimes the only real nightclub in downtown Coeur d’Alene and people realized how much more fun it was to drink and dance in such an entertainingly diverse environment.
A few summers later and people were lined up down the street trying to get in the door every weekend. The atmosphere became completely bananas, with glamour girls, motorcycle mamas, frat boys and drag queens fighting for a place in the drink line or for a square foot of dance floor space. At one point way back when, Rita bought out Mac’s half of the rights and she’s kept things bubbling along quite nicely ever since. Tonight, Rita and her crew are celebrating eleven years of Mik-n-Mac’s, a long time for any business and an eternity for a night club. While not as intensely busy as it once was, the place is still guaranteed to fill to the rafters with a mixed-nuts assortment of people by midnight every Friday and Saturday. Tuesday is Karaoke night with Jerry and $5 bottomless domestic beer and Thursday is 2-for-1’s. DJ Jason spins Top-40, Hip-Hop and club classics every Wednesday through Saturday at 9 p.m. Earlier this year, they introduced a VIP couch area which can be reserved for groups and a martini menu featuring about 50 varieties of the boozy treats. Most recently Rita has gone a bit high-tech, bringing in a new, UFO-like internet jukebox for your listening pleasure.

It’s comforting in an odd way how certain things are just guaranteed to happen at Mik-n-Mac’s. Christa will come in for her shift and immediately rearrange the napkin holders and counter objects to her exact perfect specification. DJ Jason will play certain tracks every night without fail, including “Billie Jean”, “Closer” and the truly awful “AC/DC Megamix.” It’s inevitable that someone will tipsily attempt “Margaritaville” every single Karaoke night and everyone will shout on cue “Where’s the salt, where’s the gosh-darned salt”. The hand-soap dispenser will most definitely end up getting high-kicked off the men’s room wall by some pointless, disrespectful drunk every Saturday night. Almost always, I’ll have a nice Kokanee in a frosty glass with a side of Clamato please. Like the thousands of patron-customized dollar bills stapled to the walls behind the counter, there’s just an attractively comforting repetition to the place that keeps regulars regular.

That said, there have been some changes worth paying tribute to as well. We still rue the day the popcorn machine vanished. It once served to fill sour, liquored tummies with therapeutic grease and salt but was banished after clean-up became a consistent hassle. Or the old jukebox which once so proudly blared Abba and Ani DiFranco and broke down so often that Rita threatened to push it out into the middle of 4^th Street. We miss the Hot Dog guy out front at 2 a.m., we miss Vaseline Face and the Iguana, and most of all we miss Jackson, the fiercest and funniest cocktail server we ever had the privilege to know. So many faces came and went, so many conversations spent in varying degrees of sobriety with friends and strangers too many to name.

The Mik-n-Mac’s “11^th B-Day Luau Party” kicks off at 9 p.m. tonight and you better believe everyone will be getting a lei, around the neck of course. DJ Kowax will be jetting in from the Las Vegas to show us his funky, mash-up style of spinning records. Wear you sexiest muumuu and come shake it like a jigger full of Mai Tais.

Booze of the Week: Red Beer

I'm stretching a guess here, but I'm thinking that the idea of mixing a nice cold beer with a few ounces of tomato juice originated after the Great Depression as the "poor man's Bloody Mary." So it's rather appropriate that this delicious classic drink has made somewhat of a trendy comeback lately with the current crumbling national economy forcing folks to pinch pennies and forgo the Petrone in favor of Pabst. The introduction of another liquid, usually provided free of charge, into your favorite cheap American brew stretches a pitcher of by at least a pint or two. Down at the local watering hole, we've become so used to ordering a frosty Kokanee with a side of salty Clamato that plain beer now seems shockingly naked without it.

Some prefer red beer with just regular tomato juice but that's a terribly boring idea to me, all watered down with not enough twang. Some do V8, but V8 is way too thick and makes your beer seem frighteningly close to some nightmare organic bisque. I know some people who are Clamato-squeamish for some silly reason, but to me its celery-salt infused tanginess is the perfect beer mixer. Are they afraid of clams? I'm not even convinced that actual clams were ever involved with making Clamato; the ingredients list "reconstituted dried clam broth" which sounds like clam water dust to me. The mix of mass-market beer and Clamato is know as a "Red Eye" in Canada and parts of the US., including my bathroom mirror the morning after.

Apparently I'm not the only fan of this concoction. The brilliant minds at the Anheuser-Busch laboratories have recently sent into production a line of 24 oz. cans of Budweiser and Bud Light mixed factory-style with Clamato "and a hint of lime and salt." These "Cheladas" cost about a buck more than a normal can of beer that size might cost, which makes them spendy compared to their bar-bound counterpart, but they actually taste surprisingly terrific and are worth it. It can be just so darn difficult to mix beer and clamato on your own sometimes (well, after three or-so pitchers), so it's terribly convenient to have them pre-mixed and ready to go. Why not take the idea a step further? Pre-made Bloody Marys in big bottles with all the pickled asparagus and green olives etc, sold in mild or hot varieties. Just pour over ice and serve!

Red beer is good in the afternoon. I seem to have vague 70's memories of my parents thinking Red beer was good in the morning too. Every bar serves red beer, and it's a recipe that's impossible to for the bartender to mess up, although some places are notoriously stingy on the red (that means you, Iron Horse). I've also heard that the citric quality of the tomato juice helps neutralize and slow absorption of alcohol, resulting in a lighter effect. That's a very good thing if you'll be driving home later, and if you're walking that's okay too, you'll just have to drink twice as much. Prost!

St. Patrick's Day Parade & Bar Hop

St. Patrick’s Day Means Parades and Parties in Downtown CDA

I’ve always found it to be rather vexatious when folks don’t really go for the green on St. Patrick’s Day. They pad their way blearily through the closet that morning and pull out clothing in unsightly shades of sea foam, olive or chartreuse, and probably think “eh, close enough”. Or they dress head-to-toe in every color of the rainbow other than green, and then don some kind of miniscule accessory in Ireland’s trademark color, like a fuzzy shamrock pin purchased last year during a Hallmark clearance sale, or even worse they say “My underwear is green today”. This tidbit of information not only paints uncomfortable mind pictures, it will likely be seen as “too much” for all but one’s most intimate companions or perhaps emergency care technicians. They’ll wear just enough of a hint of pseudo-green to avoid the sharp pinching fingers of traditionalists.

Certainly, those who really take St. Paddy’s Day to heart know that only bold, bright true green will do the trick, and it should be worn loudly and proudly. However, when getting the kids dressed, be careful not to go overboard with the idea. In Ireland, the color was long considered to be unlucky; the favorite color of the Fairy Shoemakers who liked nothing better than to snatch away children wearing too much green. It’s better to be safe than sorry, but realistically, unless you reside near certain metropolitan boutique districts, Fairy Shoemakers are a very minor concern in modern times. If you decide to bring the family out to downtown Coeur d’Alene today at 4 o’clock for the annual St.Patrick’s Day Parade, it might be prudent to bring an Irish Fairy Swatter just in case.

If such an item could actually be purchased, All Things Irish on Sherman Avenue would likely be a great place to begin searching for it. If you want tacky paper-and-foil shamrocks, you’d better stick to the dollar store. All Things Irish owner Ilene Moss carries high quality merchandise straight from the land of Eire, including wool capes, Catholic trinkets, Celtic rugs, jewelry, fine art and ceramics. She will also rent you a kilt, but what you wear underneath is fully your decision. The shop serves as a kind of spiritual home base for the St. Patrick’s Day Parade which begins up the street at 11^th Street and ends a mile down Sherman Avenue near the Museum of North Idaho.

This year marks the third run of the parade, and although it’s a fairly new tradition in town, it’s already become a local favorite, giving folks a chance to experience the thrill of dusting off the folding lawn chairs and enjoying early springtime in the shadow of a high-rise condo. A real highlight each year is the twirling drumsticks and bagpipes of Sandpoint’s St. Joseph’s School Band, which are either heart-stirring or stomach churning, depending on your tolerance level for the droning wind instruments. Regardless, the green, blue, and black tartan-clad marching band always leaves the crowd misty-eyed, causing even those natives of Swaziland or Guam in attendance to long for the mothering shores of Ireland and cheer wildly. Other notable entries from previous years have included various local radio personalities, colorful charity floats, scads of pug dogs and leprechauns chasing police cars, and best of all, giant dancing bottles of Guinness beer.

Ah, Guinness. For many, it’s the embodiment of what makes St. Patrick’s Day worth celebrating. Its distinctive flavor comes from the roasted barley which remains unfermented, resulting in a rich flavor I like to describe as “chocolatey”. The Iron Horse is a fantastic place to order your first cold, heady Guinness of the evening and if you get there in time, you can even watch the parade go by from the comfort of the lounge. Crowds tend to get wild early at the Horse, and the staff has plans to make the place as festive as possible on parade day, with traditional Irish music setting the ambience, and heaps of Corned Beef and Cabbage to help soak up the dark beer. Since it’s a Saturday, they’ll be serving their usual two-for-one drinks. Stick around into the evening and dance to the party sounds of cover band Ultraglide. If you still haven’t had your fill of Irish shenanigans tonight, you can relive the whole affair this Monday the 17^th, when they do the whole thing over again with a DJ in lieu of live music.

Naturally, O’Shay’s Irish Pub on the east end of town on Lake Coeur d’Alene Drive is really getting into things, with a celebration that kicks off today with a big hearty “O’Breakfast” and the season opening of the beer garden and amphitheater. Fresh from dazzling parade goers, the St. Joseph’s Band will perform, followed by local favorites the Burlap Highrise, who I’d guess will be throwing in some old-country Irish elements in with their rustic Americana-tinged rock music. The O’Shays menu is like St.Paddy’s Day every day, so it’s no stretch at all to expect the Guinness Stew, Corned Beef & Cabbage, and Fish & Chips to be nearly as good as a trip to a Dublin eatery. The music, food, and good times continue at O’Shays through Monday.

It doesn’t really matter to the naughty Leprechaun if he has to work bright and early the next morning, he’s going to put on his best green floppy hat and celebrate St Paddy’s the way it was meant to be celebrated: bar-hopping. Along with the aforementioned Iron Horse and O’Shay’s, the Fort Ground Grill will be treating revelers all day long Monday to plenty of stout Irish ale, corned beef, and an evening bagpipe performance. “The Fort Ground has always been a St Patrick’s Day tradition in Coeur d’Alene,” says owner Steve Widmyer, “Stop by for a green beer!”

Also on the party list is Capone’s Pub on 4^th street in midtown, where according to featured entertainers the Million $ Hillbilly Band, it’ll be “foot stompin’, Irish drinkin’, and more fun than the British parliament deems legal.” Music starts at 7 p.m. The Shore Lounge in the lobby level of the Resort is also throwing a St.Patrick’s Night bash, with drink specials, a DJ spinning Irish tunes (U2 dance mixes perhaps?), and plenty of tourist commingling.

After bar hopping, the tispy Leprechaun is most likely to end up settling in for the night at Mik-n-Mac’s Lounge on 4th where DJ Jason will be completely ignoring Ireland and will instead get everyone dancing to current and retro hip-hop and club hits. The fair maidens behind the bar have promised to keep the crowd juiced up on martinis, green beers and insane drink specials like the Irish Trash Can, a wicked concoction of Rum, Gin, Vodka, Triple Sec, Peach Schnapps, and Blue Curaco, with a full can of Red Bull floating atop. Whoa. More than one of those bad boys and the naughty Leprechaun will wake up the next morning looking as green as his best floppy hat.

DJ Kowax and the Art of Mash-Ups

The calling card of the professional DJ these days is the cool mash-up. For those of who who think I'm referring to creamy potatoes, a mash-up is when a DJ mixes two or more pop songs creatively together, ending in an entirely new track. In its simplest form an acapella vocal track of one songs is placed atop an instrumental track of anther song, and the more shockingly opposite the original songs, the better.

Mixing and recording software has enabled DJ's to get increasingly complex with the concept, sometimes resulting in jaw-droppingly brilliant results. Wikipedia describes mash ups as "ultimate post-modern pop songs" and "'culture jamming in its purest form." Classics of the genre include Freelance Hellraiser's mix of Christina Aguilera and the Strokes, Richard X's delightful melding of Adina Howard's "Freak Like Me" and Gary Numan's "Are Friends Electric", and whatever genius mixed Missy Elliott and the Cure.

Las Vegas' DJ Kowax has mastered the artform as well, using the lost 80's classic "Oh Shiela" by Ready for the World and Flo Rida's 2007 hit "Low" to create a danceably bananas rap-funk mash-up (listen below). Kowax will be in the house tomorrow night , Saturday 2/2, causing chaos on the dancefloor with DJ Jason at Mik-n-Mac's Lounge on N. 4th Street in Cd'A. You should make it down if you possibly can - if the gig is a success, perhaps they'll consider bringing in more killer guest DJ's in the future, and that's truly a promising idea.

60's In Cd'A Provided Some Eye-Popping Events

Somehow, I’m a little doubtful about my mother’s claim that the “hippie movement” of the sixties had arrived pretty much complete and on time up here in North Idaho. Certainly, the more pop aspects of the era were inescapable anywhere; The Beatles’ classic Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band obviously blared from lo-fi phonographs in basement rooms thick with incense smoke where human be-ins were planned and many tie-dyed shirts and macramé plant holders were made. However, I’d imagine that many folks in a town of Coeur d’Alene’s size forty years ago would have been reluctant to really embrace the more intense free love, pro-drug and anti-establishment values that came with the onset of the counterculture.

Nevertheless, my mother remembers witnessing firsthand an event which sounds like it could be described as North Idaho’s own miniature Woodstock. Bored one hot afternoon in the late sixties, my slightly naïve grandparents packed the family into the station wagon and headed up to Farragut State Park to check out a concert they’d seen a little ad for in the newspaper or somewhere. Laying out the picnic blanket and settling in, they were stunned to realize they were, as my mother puts it, “the only sober, normally-dressed people” in a crowd of thousands of half-naked hippies openly drinking beer, passing joints, and dropping acid to the throb of psychedelic hard rock. “The girls were running around completely topless,” she recalls. “Your grandfather’s eyeballs were practically bulging out of his head!”

Such hedonism was likely rare in these parts and most young folks in Coeur d’Alene pursued more innocent flights of fancy, such as the dances in the gym at North Idaho Junior College. Admission was a dollar, and every weekend would bring a different band, each with increasingly silly, sixties-ish names: “The Wilson-McKinley”, “Honolulu Fruit Gum Orchestra”, and my favorite, “Peach & the Pits”. Cruising Sherman Avenue was also a major craze at the time. A series of burger joints where all the cute, popular girls worked served as gathering points along “the loop”, starting with Paul Bunyan on the west end, and with Dairy De-Lite, Topper, and Arctic Circle rounding out the middle. The parking lot of The Boat Drive-In on the east side of town was the place to get a chili dog and rev up the Mustang before spinning out impressively and heading the other direction again.

The drinking age at the time was 19, so the kiddies didn’t have to wait too long before they could start frequenting night clubs and bars like the infamous Rathskeller’s Inn on East Sherman. The Goss family ran this notoriously uproarious beer and pizza joint, and for many years, it was the default hang-out spot in town for both college kids and the underage teens who managed to sneak in through the side window. Known affectionately by patrons as “Rats”, the bar featured live rock-n-roll bands, go-go dancers, pinball and pool tables. Longtime resident Virginia Balser shared with me a slightly twisted but entertaining memory about Rathskeller’s. “It was known to not have sufficient rest rooms for the patrons,” she explains, “and every weekend there were a number of gentlemen arrested for ungentlemanly behavior in the bushes outside.” Sounds like a situation that really reeked.

The Diamond Cup hydroplane races that once packed the shores of Lake Coeur d’Alene with thousands of rowdy fans had begun to peter out by the late sixties, due to malaise caused by the massive drunken riots and civil disobedience that would inevitably accompany the events. My mother tells a great story about one of the last times the races were held, when she and her best girlfriend got dressed up in evening gowns and made fake beauty pageant sashes to wear which read something like “Miss Hydroplane Princess 1966”. Of course, there was no such title or pageant and the whole thing was merely a clever ruse enabling the girls to spend an evening being wined and dined for free by all the visiting hydroplane honchos at the Athletic Round Table, the elite lounge located within the elegant Desert Hotel.

Also on the classier side of the nightlife scene at the time was the North Shore Restaurant & Lounge, located in the footprint of what is now the Coeur d’Alene Resort, as well as neighboring Templin’s Waterfront Lodge. According to legend, Templin’s was the popular place for local business and politics bigwigs to have drinks because it was so dimly lit that they could avoid being seen by wives and busybodies while sneaking out on the town with their mistresses.

Further down Sherman was the Brunswick Café where, as witnessed by Coeur d’Alene’s Gary Ingram, the city council would meet for lunch on meeting day to decide what would be discussed at the meeting that evening. “This practice was the genesis of the Idaho Open Meeting Law”, says Ingram. Balser remembers having coffee breaks at the Brunswick with the Chief of Police and others. One day one of the regulars noticed that the menu included “Baked Owl with Dressing.” A prankster at a nearby business had managed to sneak away the menus over time and alter them, adding the unsavory “daily special”. According to Balser, “several people were outraged and finally the cook announced there was no ‘damned owl’ being served. The rest of us had great delight in this antic.” The Brunswick’s trademark “Awful Awful” burger is still served at the location, which is now The Iron Horse, but unfortunately I hear the burger is now just plain awful.

By the late sixties, Coeur d’Alene’s northward expansion had created a small strip of dining establishments on Appleway, near the town’s first indoor shopping mall, which was anchored by Buttrey Food & Drug and Montgomery Ward and was a huge deal at the time, despite only having about ten stores. The place had a distinct odor I can still almost conjure in my head which was specific to shopping malls of the era, a pungent mix of cafeteria fumes, new plastic shoes, hot popcorn, and artificial air. Nearby were both Elsie’s Dakota Café and Marie’s Coffee Stop Café, satisfying hungry mall shoppers who lined up at the lunch counters to have some soup and a sandwich and gaze longingly into rotating displays of pies and cakes. Both diners were run by big, loveable ladies who always sat in the back and treated all their customers like family.
Further west on Appleway, the Log Cabin Restaurant was considered fairly elegant at the time, boasting an extensive salad bar, perhaps the first of its kind in the area. Along with perennially popular favorites like Chicken Fried Steak and Spaghetti & Meatballs, menu options included more dated fare such as Liver & Onions and a Monte Cristo Sandwich (my favorite item you never see on menus anymore).

Cedar’s Floating Restaurant had recently opened its doors quite literally on the lake near the newly completed US-95 Bridge, and although it was well-known for it’s incredible steak and baked potato special and “soft lights” cocktail lounge, it wasn’t for the seasickness prone. I have some old photos of my parents and friends ringing in the New Year in 1968 out at the ultra-kitschy Happy Hour, which was just west of town on Seltice Way where The Grail sits now. The place looks smoky and cave-like, the depressing wood paneling and burgundy velvet wallpaper contrasting sharply with the florid hues of their outfits and dazzling party hats. Here was the local mecca for buffet-style dining, with a Wednesday all-you-can-eat Chicken Dinner and a splurge-worthy $2.85 Seafood Smorgasbord with 8 different seafood items including Alaskan king crab, lobster tail, and grilled fillet of Mau Mau Fish. Wait a second, wasn’t that the name of one of the bands playing down at the junior college?