944

In like a lion, out like a lamb? Not this year. Talk about March Madness! Let's recap this crazy month:

1) One of the most catastrophic earthquake/tsunami events in recorded history struck Japan — washing away entire towns, killing more than 11,000 and counting, crippling a main power plant and inciting a nuclear crisis.

2) Things got really, really ugly in Libya. (And I'm not just referring to Moammar Gadhafi's outfits.)

3) “Winning!” became the word of the moment. (And on a side note, the search words “tiger blood” and “Charlie Sheen bipolar” lit up Google in record numbers.)

4) The SDSU Aztecs gave us the best run. Ever.

5) I FINALLY got the fashion memo that the '70s look is back! No good can come from this.

March has been a roller coaster to say the least. I'm happy to hop off and welcome April with open arms — starting with the Spring installment of THREAD this Sunday starting at 11 a.m. at the Horton Event Space at Fourth and Broadway downtown. Grab a cocktail and a gift bag, and shop the latest spring trends from local designers. Check out www.threadshow.com for more details on all kinds of fun perks, including photo booths, DJs, giveaways, a style lounge, DIY Lounge, Nail Bar, Live Style Series, THREAD Well Lounge and ... a Man Cave! (Yes, a Man Cave.)

Here's to a new month ahead filled hopefully with more good news than bad. I plan to stay far, far away from bell bottoms, so I should be good.


Happy Spring,

Sarah Daoust

Senior Managing Editor

sarahd@944.com

twitter.com/sweetsarahbelle Written by: Sarah Daoust

If I had a nickel for every time someone has reached out to me in the last few weeks about how they've missed my regular ranting 944 blogs, I'd have exactly one nickel. But one nickel is all it takes for a gal like me to feel appreciated and missed!

So I'm back. And my apologies to anyone else who has noticed; I took a quick breather from blogging to focus on sunning myself in Maui over the holidays, playing catch-up to hit crazy deadlines due to sunning myself in Maui over the holidays, and dutifully researching how much cash people are willing to drop just to tie the knot. (Insert shameless plug here for our February Wedding Issue coming out next week.)

So the Steelers and Packers are headed to the Super Bowl. I am OK with this for three reasons:

1) I love the color gold.

2) That Mark Sanchez booger incident will hopefully go away that much quicker.

3) There are fans, and then there are FANS. No two NFL teams have fans quite like Pittsburgh and Green Bay do. Die-hards who live for their team, whose lives revolve around their team. You know how in all the "Rocky" movies Rocky Balboa's wife Adrian claimed she mentally and emotionally took every punch her husband took in the boxing ring? Well, Steelers fans collectively broke their noses when Ben Roethlisberger had his schnoz busted open by a Baltimore Ravens lineman back in December. And my parents lived in Packer territory for years; my dad's secretary would be so devastated after a Green Bay loss that she could barely speak without tearing up until about the following Thursday.

Those are FANS. (Maybe the Big Ben broken nose analogy is a bit of a stretch, but you get my point.) And I'm happy for them.

San Diego has its diehards, too, but for the most part, when the Chargers lose, our reaction is something along the lines of: Crap, that sucks. Oh well. So who wants to grab a margarita in PB? We're in large part fair-weather fans living in fair weather. Or we're die-hards for a team that is not the Chargers.

As for who I'm rooting for in the Super Bowl, part of me is happy that quarterback Aaron Rodgers is on the verge of scaring away the ghost of Brett Favre for good. Part of me has a weird, unexplainable football crush on Troy Polamalu. (Maybe it's his hair or the way his last name rolls off the tongue, but my heart rate goes up every time he makes tackles that cause concussions.)

Either way, my money is on the gold As in the haze of Cuervo Gold margaritas I'll be downing until the Chargers break my heart again next season. (On a side note, I am currently accepting nickel donations to pay for all these drinks.)

Who's your money on?

BTW, it sure is good to be back.



Sarah Daoust

Senior Managing Editor

sarahd@944.com











Written by: Sarah Daoust

There are two scenarios, literally just two, in which I am never running late: 1) if I have a plane to catch; and 2) if I have to appear on live television. And for these instances, it takes literally everything in me, my entire focus, my complete and total concentration, to be on time. If I flip on the morning news while primping, or pause to answer a couple emails on my phone, even the most minor distraction jeopardizes everything. Hence, I become like a boxer the night before the big heavyweight title fight: No one is even allowed to talk to me as I prepare, for fear of interrupting my laser focus on the massive challenge before me.

Otherwise, I suck at showing up on time. Everyone who knows me will attest to this. My doctor and hairstylist give me fake appointment times, a minimum of 15 minutes ahead. And I can't tell you how many times I've been greeted with a huge SURPRISE! by about 60 people jumping out of the dark mistaken for the birthday girl at a friend's surprise party because I showed up at 7:30, directly defying the "Please be there by 7 p.m. at the very latest" warning on the invite.

Yeah, I'm that girl. And it's my biggest pet peeve about myself. It's an extremely selfish, disrespectful mode to live in, as it implies I don't value the time of others, and (as Dr. Oz spouted on the news in the background one recent morning while I was busy organizing my sock drawer when I should've been already en route to work) it takes away my control of situations. And I LOVE to be in control. When you're late, you're not in control of the environment you're arriving late to; you're not the one setting the tone and tempo.

So that's my New Year's resolution: To quit being the perpetrator of perpetual tardiness. What's your resolution? Even if you don't do resolutions, we can all stand to welcome some inspiration into our lives in 2011. For 944's annual Innovators Under 30 feature in our new January issue out all over town, we rounded up a diverse mix of young people who inspire all around them. I hope at least one of them inspires you to set new goals (you don't have to call them resolutions), try new things, and visit new places this year.

Just don't be late.



Sarah Daoust

Senior Managing Editor

sarahd@944.com
Written by: Sarah Daoust

It's the gift that keeps on giving. And giving. Because nobody wants it. It's a little holiday phenomenon known as the re-gift, which, depending on its usage, can be a noun or a verb. Or an indicator that your lazy co-worker put no thought whatsoever into that salad shooter you got in the secret Santa exchange.

So, how can you tell if you've been re-gifted? And when is it appropriate to do the re-gifting? Tis the season to explore these questions, and to perfect the art of re-gifting. Admit it; you know you'll do it at least once.



COMMON RE-GIFTS

Typical re-gifts are those deemed safe and generic enough to give to pretty much anyone, and require very little thought. Gifts become re-gifts because the people who receive the initial gift most likely just have no need for another vanilla scented candle from Pottery Barn. But hey, doesn't your boyfriend's sister like candles? Bam. Done. Wrap that shit up and give it to Brittany for Christmas. And, thus, the re-gifting chain has begun. Brittany will think it's sweet you got her something you knew she liked, but she will likely wrap it back up and give to her BFF's mother. After all, Donna loves vanilla scented candles, too.

Other common re-gifts include, but are not limited to:

1. A coffee gift set from Starbucks (who doesn't like coffee?)

2. A moderately priced box of chocolates

3. Scented soaps

4. Stationary

5. A bottle of wine or champagne (though on a personal note, I openly welcome wine as a gift and would never re-gift it, being the borderline lush, er, wine connoisseur I am)

6. Wine glasses

7. A gift card to Bed, Bath & Beyond

8. Scarves that come in boxes with clear plastic lids

9. Just about anything from Bath & Body Works



I DON'T LIKE YOU RE-GIFTS

Then there are those re-gifts that nobody ever wants, and you only would ever give them to, or receive them from, people you really don't like or who don't like you. What says, "I don't give a shit about you; Merry Christmas!" better than a fruitcake you got as a gift from the paperboy you never tip? Ooh yeah, that concoction of candied fruit enveloped in stale batter, weighing more than a bowling ball and more indestructible than a cockroach, belongs in the re-gifting hall of fame.

If not fruitcake, consider these other hall of fame nominees:

1. Salad shooter, of course

2. Bread maker (who remembers "Old School"?)

3. The cheapest box of chocolates you could find on the shelf at Rite-Aid

4. A mug filled with Hershey's Kisses from Rite-Aid

5. Any other type of mug

6. A gift card to Borders

7. A tin bin of popcorn from Costco

8. Mixed nuts



Just remember, when it comes to gift-giving, it's still the thought that counts. There are those people you should NEVER re-gift to, for fear they'll think you truly don't care enough to try a little harder:

1. Your significant other

2. Your parents

3. Your best friend

But cousins, co-workers, in-laws and postal carriers are fair game.

The ultimate re-gifting chain ends with receiving as a gift the original gift you re-gifted like a year ago. Should that ever happen, it's time to just throw in the towel and cut open that fruitcake and eat it already. Then light all 14 vanilla scented candles, pour yourself a glass of wine in your new wine glass, and read your salad shooter manual. You're going to want to use it every day for the next month to balance out the bowling ball in your stomach.

Sarah Daoust

Senior Managing Editor

sarahd@944.com
Written by: Sarah Daoust

Growing up, I remember with fondness those huge family Thanksgivings held at my parents' house each year. Grandma baking her dinner rolls and pies from scratch. Mom basting the turkey and stuffing it with her famous, well, stuffing. My sisters and me turning up the volume on our boom box after Mom's fifth warning to clean our rooms before guests arrived. Dad swearing up a storm after the vacuum cleaner would clog, then break, and racing out to buy a new one (every single year!). Making awkward conversation with relatives who I only saw once a year (and who kept calling me Christina, my sister's name). Carefully planning my mall outfit to wear on Black Friday. Wondering why my uncle always got so sleepy on the couch after downing a few Rolling Rocks ...

Man, those were some good times. Truly.

Fast-forward to my frenzied, stress-ridden adult life, and Thanksgiving seems to have lost its warm, fuzzy connotation. These days it's more of a reminder that the holidays are coming and I still haven't thought of a single gift idea, began working on those New Year's resolutions from last year, learned how to bake, or really tried to become domestic in any real way. (Why did I always zone out all those times Grandma tried to teach me how to roll dough??) My oven is stocked with shoes and Red Bull, for crying out loud.

In fact, my life these days heading toward the holiday season has become a blur. It seems I'm in a constant state of controlled panic, racing to catch up with my own life, hitting deadlines, running to meetings, returning calls and e-mails and texts and instant messages. As one day blends into the next, I realize I haven't called my mom in a month; I've been missing gym visits; I've been rain-checking lunch with friends, then rain-checking our rain checks; my home looks like an intruder ransacked the place; and I've been wearing undies I wouldn't want to be caught wearing in a car accident, as my hamper continues to expand and groan. Oh, and everything I've been nuking and shoveling into my mouth without a glance lately is somehow ... beige. We're talking anemic turkey sandwiches, ramen noodles, Peanut Butter Captain Crunch, some unidentifiable takeout from a week ago ...

Wait. Whoa. I have completely regressed to my college days, minus the lingering, mentally scarring acne. (Thank god that finally cleared up.)

Anyway, in an effort to return some of the warmth and fuzziness of my youth to Thanksgiving and the upcoming season, I've come up with a few survival tips I recently overheard myself telling a friend. (Now if only I could take my own advice.) For anyone else out there too busy to do laundry, hear this: Wear those not-suitable-for-a-car-accident undies proudly, but try to embrace at least one of these suggestions this season.

1) TREAT YOURSELF TO A SPA VISIT. Guys, you, too. Seriously, forgetting all your cares for 80 minutes or so while someone name Rodrigo or Helga massages and kneads the shit out of you is the best $110 bucks you'll spend all season. You'll feel rested, rejuvenated and ready to figure out what to get that weird dude who talks to himself two cubicles down for Christmas. If you have another hour and $100 to spare, get a facial, too. No need to look tired and stressed just because you feel that way.

2) PRIORITIZE AND ORGANIZE. All those errands won't seem so overwhelming when numbered and written neatly on a pretty pink little Post-it. Incorporate the one-day-at-a-time philosophy, and mix in things that add balance and cathartic release to your schedule. Got two proposals to write in one day? Schedule a quick lunch date with your significant other in between them. The day doesn't seem so bad now, does it?

3) GET MOVING. A 20-minute stroll outside, even it it's around the parking lot, can do wonders. I've met the NICEST filthy transients who linger by my office downtown that way!

4) IF YOU CAN'T BAKE IT, FAKE IT. For those with no time (or skills) to bake a pumpkin pie before heading over to the in-laws' house for Thanksgiving, there's a little slice of heaven in Encinitas called Elizabethan Desserts waiting to save your ass.

5) PHONE HOME. Drop that forkful of takeout and call your mom already.



Happy Thanksgiving,

Sarah Daoust

Senior Managing Editor

Sarahd@944.com



EDITOR'S PICK OF THE WEEK:

Get your holiday shopping ON at the Thanksgiving weekend installment of THREAD, featuring fashionable creations by 100 LOCAL independent designers, two fashion shows, plus DJs, snacks and drinks all day, just to name a few fun highlights. Head to the Horton Plaza Event Center at Fourth and Broadway above Sam Goody this Sunday, November 28, from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. Admission is just $5 bucks if you R.S.V.P at www.threadshow.com

See you there! Written by: Sarah Daoust

Don't underestimate the power of Facebook. Or Jimmy Kimmel for that matter. The comedian and talk show host is pushing today's unofficial holiday of sorts, National UnFriend Day, with a vengeance. I wonder if he's promoting it on Facebook?

But that's the power of the beast, ain't it? Love Facebook or abhor it, whether you have 30 friends or 3,000, this narcissistic, voyeuristic, false-sense-of-friendship-creating, actual-physical-interaction-crippling, passive-aggression-inducing, flat-out-addicting, social media juggernaut cannot and will not be denied!!!

(BTW, I was referring to Facebook, not necessarily Jimmy Kimmel, with the above rant. But I can see how you might assume the latter.)

However, your friends on Facebook most certainly CAN be denied. And that's where it gets tricky. Because no one likes to be kicked out of the club, so to speak, real friend or not, fair or not. And that's what defriending another essentially is. It says to the defriended: "Hey, I initially liked you enough to allow you personal access to my vacation photos of me in my bikini, as well as my lame, contrived attempts at clever inspirational quotes of the day. But after some thought? Eh, not so much. Goodbye. Nothing personal. Not that we ever were personal."

But I'm not going to be a hypocrite. I, like millions of others, have milked the hell out of Facebook for its networking capabilities, and have an obnoxious friend tally of 850 and counting, an easy 650 of which I couldn't pick out of a police lineup if my life depended on it. And while I've done my share of defriending, I am never not hurt and outraged that someone would ever defriend ME. What, just because we never spoke a single word to each other all through high school, you now no longer have an interest in what I eat for lunch every day? How dare you! We have 72 friends common, too, you big jerk!

Ok maybe in that sense I am absolutely a hypocrite. So today, I'm not going to do any defriending. If only because Jimmy Kimmel is not the boss of me. But you do what's right for you, what your heart tells you, even if it means defriending me. I'll do my best to take it like a champ. But I will miss creeping photos of your best friend's sister's roommate's drunken bachelorette weekend in Vegas.

For those of you unsure of who to defriend or not to defriend? Here's what William Shatner told Jimmy Kimmel: "These people on Facebook, they're not your friends. You want to know who your friends are? Post a status update that says 'I'm moving this weekend and I need help.' The people that respond? Those are your friends! Everyone else isn't."

If I used that line of logic, I'd have to defriend 848 people. I recently moved, so I know.

My advice instead: You know those lovely daily birthday reminders on the Facebook home page? Well, if you shy away from writing Happy Birthday! on a friend's wall because it would somehow be weird (because you barely know them!!), maybe it's time to part ways.

In any case, National UnFriend Day at least gives us all something to talk about around the ol' water cooler at the office besides Taylor Swift and Jake Gyllenhaal's blossoming romance, or whether or not it really was just THAT slow of a start for the Chargers this season.

Now if we could get an official day off work to do all this unfriending/defriending, it being a holiday and all, that would be awesome.

Sarah Daoust

Senior Managing Editor

sarahd@944.com

P.S., I'm going to use Facebook to promote this blog. Like I said, that's the power of the beast. Written by: Sarah Daoust

Pictured: Sarah Daoust and 944 Photographer Bradley Lamont


This month marks the 62nd issue of 944 I've helped roll out over the last five years. Where does the time go? I swear, it's been one big, foggy roller coaster of highs, lows, deadlines, stress, parties, taking harsh criticism like a champ, taking compliments like a lady, hard work, hustling, hangovers, hanging in there, moments of extreme panic, moments of extreme pride, and my favorite part: exposing San Diego's ambitious and talented artists and business owners, month after month. It's an honor that never gets old.

Say what you will about 944, and believe me, we're well aware that many people have, but true to our old axiom, "Loved, Hated, Never Ignored," 944 is still here. It's a feat in and of itself, and I am so proud, and so genuinely appreciative of all the support shown to our San Diego edition as we celebrate seven years in print this fall. Seven years! That's the life span of a kangaroo! (I looked it up.)

Speaking of ambitious and talented artists, this October Art Issue is dedicated to those San Diegans committed to elevating the local art scene in innovative ways, marked by our big feature, Culture Shockers, profiling 13 cool locals to put on the radar and why.

We also highlight the top nine most timely new ways to take in San Diego's art scene this fall, plus nabbed an exclusive with R&B's next big artist and local fashion's label on the rise.

Grab a hard copy all around town, and check out our flip book at http://proofcenter.944.com/newflipbook/1476/


Enjoy! And stay tuned for how we plan to shake things up with my 63rd issue.



Sarah Daoust

Senior Managing Editor

sarahd@944.com Written by: Sarah Daoust

So, I've been doubling up on my Crest Whitestrips applications lately and practicing my stage smile and Alan Thicke voice. Because this time, the audience is more than just the stuffed polar bear on my bed, and the microphone isn't my hairbrush; it's an ACTUAL mic. Whoa.

That's right. If the promise of Yours Truly tripping on stage while playing emcee at two killer fashion shows at THREAD isn't enticing enough, here are 10 more reasons to head the Horton Plaza Event Center at Fourth and Broadway downtown this Sunday from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m.:

1) Men's and women's apparel and housewares, including eco-friendly items, created by 100 up-and-coming independent designers, will be on hand and for sale. This means your chance to score some fresh duds at great deals while supporting the local fashion scene.

2) Coughing up a mere $5 bucks in advance (and avoiding the $10 cover charge at the door) gets you into both THREAD and Nosh, a cool foodie haven where gourmet small plates from local restaurants are all $5 and under.

3) Donate gently used clothes at the door and get in for $5 instead of the usual $10.

4) Enjoy additional free snacks and drinks.

5) Be among the first 250 guests through the door and score a sweet gift bag.

6) A Free Style Lounge will be presented by DiscoverSD and Diesel Salon.

7) Take advantage of live screen printing for shirts for $5. (Smelling a $5 trend here?)

8) Bring your favorite clothes you've retired for yourself yet would look great on another, and swap them out with someone's else's retired favorites in the Swapping Lounge. No joke!

9) Check out an art gallery, plus DJs spinning all day.

10) Super-hot models showcasing the latest looks of the season will strut down the 944 runway in two separate fashion shows. Can you say eye candy?

RSVP in advance to http://threadshow.com/show_info.php?show_id=108&show=rsvp and I'll see you there. I'll be the blonde getting a pep talk from a stuffed polar bear in the corner before teetering on stage to flash a smile that could quite likely be seen from space. I hear Crest offers a money-back guarantee to that effect.



Sarah Daoust

Senior Managing Editor

sarahd@944.com Written by: Sarah Daoust

What else can I say, other than BE THERE.

Please be our guest this Friday, September 10 at Side Bar, where nightlife meets fashion for a sensory overload of beautiful people, all hosted by the one and only MICHAEL LEE, the ambitious fellow pictured above, who is featured in our September Fall Fashion Issue. The festivities kick off at 9 p.m. with fashion-themed and HOSTED Ultimat Vodka cocktails, followed by a fab fashion show at 10:30 p.m. featuring San Diego boutiques also featured in 944 this month, including Jolie Femme, HIS Boutique and Molly B. And for the ladies who attend, be sure to say hello to new Pacific Beach shoe boutique Tutto Cuore for an "enter to win" contest! In other words, free fashion swag!

RSVP to www.944.com/944fashion right away as space is limited.

Drinks on us at 9 p.m. this Friday! See you at Side Bar!

Love,

Sarah

Photo: Sessions Public

So perhaps plunging into a three-day cleanse in which I can only consume gross juices and twigs, while simultaneously mapping out 944's annual Food Issue, wasn't the BEST idea. While visions of the tastiest gourmet hot dogs and charcuterie boards in San Diego dance in my head, my empty belly screams: "Cruel, heartless woman! Now feed me some steak frites before I go all Richter scale with my growling and mortify you in front of your co-workers!"

Not that I'm expecting any sympathy here. I just figured I'd reboot the ol' digestive system and palate before I launch full speed into my, um, "field research" on food in San Diego. I won't stop until I've tasted every weird thing on the menu at El Take It Easy (as long as there's nothing still moving on my plate, I'm in!), downed enough dolled-up tater tots (aka the new mac 'n' cheese) to induce a food comma, and sampled every last Snake Oil Cocktail creation on the menu at Searsucker (because the six I tried at its grand opening don't count).

Wish me luck! And if you've recently discovered a new dish or drink at a local restaurant that's so good you wake up in the middle of the night calling out its name, email me. If I don't already know about it, I'll gladly take one for the team and try it out. I'm generous like that. My belly needs to take note and pipe down.



EDITOR'S PICK OF THE WEEK
Sessions Public, located on that funky-cool strip of Voltaire street that I'm never quite sure is Ocean Beach or Point Loma, is a cool new hang if you like beer ... and bees. You'll see what I mean.

The latest joint to jump on the farm-to-table bar food wagon, Sessions Public feels like a long, lean incarnation of Craft & Commerce: a rustic neighborhood spot with unfussy, high-quality dishes and plenty of options to wash them down. Skip the Duck Confit Thai Summer Rolls, which sound better than they taste, and go straight for the Ribeye Fries with blue cheese and truffle oil. And go before the hype becomes, well, over-hyped. Sessions Public is a simple spot.

www.sessionspublic.com



Sarah Daoust

Senior Managing Editor

sarahd@944.com Written by: Sarah Daoust

For a girl who claims she's easy to please when it comes to food, (I grew up in a family of seven kids, in a town where the Olive Garden was a special-occasion restaurant, and in a household where snagging the last Sloppy Joe or Little Debbie snack cake before my brother could down the entire box was a score!), I am regularly let down by San Diego restaurants.

Now wait; before you immediately assume I'm dusting off my soap box to sound off all food snob-like on how our flip-flop / Sea World / military town will never be a city for refined culinary palates, blah, blah, blah, hear me out. (And I don't believe that, BTW.) I love the rolled tacos at drive-thru dive La Fuente in Hillcrest. I also love the beef tenderloin at Mistral. Albeit high-end or hole-in-the-wall, I just like food that tastes good. It's a very simple, basic philosophy that somehow gets jacked up by restaurants either trying too hard, or not trying hard enough.

Coincidently, in the last two weeks alone, I've had three dining experiences that hit the ladle on the head and pleasantly surprised me:



Beaumont's

This neighborhood joint in Bird Rock isn't exactly on my radar. Mainly because I live in North Park. And because those roundabouts along La Jolla Boulevard trip me up every time. And because I have a fear of aggressive, gold-necklace-donning cougars, which I had heard haunt the place.

Well, I can't speak to the cougar situation, because I didn't see a single one in three hours of dining on a Thursday night. Go figure! But I can report that the Ahi Tuna Tartare was among the best I've had in ages a simple, fresh dish with an edamame puree. The Fava Bean and Roasted Corn Bruschetta was so good that I told it to Shut. Up! And the Bananas Foster Bread Pudding? I thought you liked me, Beaumont's! I'm sending my next monthly 24-Hour Fitness bill your way. I finished the whole thing like a sugar junkie would. And I don't even like sweets that much.

Plus, the place was jumpin'. So much so that I'd brave the roundabouts and go back. www.beaumontseatery.com



Stingaree

Oh now, hush your reverse snob mouths, hipsters. Yes, I know: Nightlife venues that attempt to double as fine-dining havens for foodies rarely work. And although I know chef Antonio Friscia to be one hell of a cook, I'd guess that escaping that stigma of being just a nightlclub that serves food has been a tough turkey to carve. But he's actually done it with Stingaree's brand-new, globally inspired menu. No offense to Antonio in the slightest, but I'd have guessed a new chef was on board. THAT is how surprisingly fresh and creative-without-trying-too-hard the new sustainable sharing menu is. Can you say Crab Risotto? I can. Try it. And the Crispy Skin Sonoma Duck Breast made me want to weep with joy that the skin was actually crispy, while the duck meat was bursting with flavor. And the Bacon and Eggs reminded me why it's so fun to eat breakfast for dinner. Go family-style on the ordering and thank me later.

And the best part? You can just dance off those calories right after dinner. www.stingsandiego.com



Craft & Commerce

Do Applewood Bacon Cracker Jacks count as a meal? How about if you finish the entire bowl, then lick it clean?

So I haven't had a full meal at C&C yet, but last week, on a Tuesday evening at 5:30, mind you, the place was packed. And for good reason. Bartender Nate Stanton called out hello to us the second we walked in the door, all "Cheers" like, AND remembered my husband's name right away even though he'd met him just once back in February at Noble Experiment. Smooth operators, these cats are. And I likey. Owner Arsalun Tafazoli takes the simplest of approaches, yet has an attention to detail that would impress my high school French teacher.

Monsieur Fallows was a stickler for detail.

Anyhoo, I'll be back for a full meal. The Brisket Sandwich is calling. www.craft-commerce.com

Interestingly enough, my mom used to make brisket almost every Sunday for dinner. My brother would always try to snake the last morsel of meaty goodness for himself.

Like I said, I'm easy to please. Just make it tasty.



Sarah Daoust

Senior Managing Editor

sarahd@944.com Written by: Sarah Daoust

Have a thing for beautiful, ambitious women doing cool, creative things in San Diego? We do. So much so that we handpicked six of them to grace the pages of 944's anticipated annual Nightlife Issue. Get to know these ladies now, so you can say you knew them back when ... We just have a feeling about them. Pick up a copy all over town, and clear your calendars for Saturday, August 21. Details to come, but just know that when 944 celebrates a Nightlife Issue, we go BIG.

And in the meantime, a big congrats to this month's featured women: Chloe Hemmat, Taylor Doms, Deanne Shockey, Erika Davies, Boots (aka DJ Brazzabelle) and Ariana Vitale! Check out the full issue at www.944.com/magazine


Sarah Daoust
Senior Managing Editor
Sarahd@944.com Written by: Sarah Daoust

When you think of the word "golf," the words "Sarah Daoust" immediately come to mind, no? Kind of like how "Tiger Woods" goes hand in hand with "fidelity," and "Mel Gibson" is practically synonymous with "telemarketer." I mean, can't you just picture getting a phone call during dinner from Mel, and he's all: "You better sign up for this f*cking credit card or you will be pushing up roses, you f*cking pig!!" It would be hilarious!

So, yeah. Golf isn't exactly my bag, what, with the no high-heels policy and all. But the other evening I drove the golf cart while friends played 18 holes at The Grand Del Mar. And let me tell you, not only did I not run over any of the dozens of bunnies hopping about the course, but I also genuinely enjoyed the beauty of each fairway (that's a little golf lingo for ya) and the overall concept of whacking a tiny ball repeatedly until it succumbs to a small hole in the ground. Then afterwards there's beer and wine and snacks!

All it really takes for a gal like me to get into something is the excuse for a new outfit and the promise of booze afterward, and I'm in. So I'm scheduling my first official golf lesson for next week. I did promise myself I'd try new things more often, plus I need a new hobby. (It was recently pointed out to me that watching re-runs of Gilmore Girls home alone with an entire bag of Trader Joe's Salt & Vinegar potato chips by my side on my downtime is NOT a hobby; in fact, it's pathetic.) Who knows, golf just might be my calling.

All you fellow golfers out there, consider yourselves warned. Alert your children, all homeowners within a three-mile radius of every golf course in San Diego County (just to be safe), and all woodland creatures in the general vicinity. Sarah is coming your way! Wish me luck!



Sarah Daoust
Senior Managing Editor
Sarahd@944.com Written by: Sarah Daoust

If you haven't witnessed Spider-Man walking up Fifth Avenue in the Gaslamp Quarter in broad daylight, arm in arm with Blanka from "Street Fighter" on one side, and Gambit from "X-Men" on the other side, then you haven't lived. Come tomorrow, I want you to live, people. LIVE. Live, I say!

That's right, those of you hiding under a rock may not be aware that Comic-Con unleashes its four-day spectacle at the Convention Center, with celebrations and after-parties galore sprinkled about downtown, this Thursday thru Sunday. I love Comic-Con if only for two reasons: 1) the 125,000 people it brings to Downtown San Diego (and related spikes in business for our hotels, restaurants, etc.); and 2) witnessing tens of thousands of self-proclaimed geeks and nerds come together and bond like no other gathering could ever achieve.

Although all things comic, action, animated and fantasy never really defined my own geek-dom (I was more of a four-eyed, horseback-riding, Sweet Valley High book-reading inspiration for Judy Blume), I can appreciate a fellow geek's passions. And hey, if confirmed appearances by Angelina Jolie, Eva Mendes, Ryan Reynolds and a slew of other top celebs this week mean anything at all, they mean that being a geek has never been so hot.

Enjoy the festivities over the next four days, if only doing so means grabbing lunch in the Gaslamp on a sidewalk patio and doing some serious people-watching. Shoot me your favorite sightings. And anyone with proof of spotting a Spider-Man/Blanka/Gambit combo gets a special prize aside from feeling especially alive, that is! Because you will! Trust me.

Sarah Daoust

Senior Managing Editor

sarahd@944.com Written by: Sarah Daoust

Intro by Sarah Daoust:
Muralist extraordinaire Shepard Fairey, who got his start in America's Finest City, has been busy making San Diego a prettier place. 944 writer Alyssa Zeman was able to check out the artist in action yesterday on his now-complete mural gracing a two-story building in South Park ...


By Alyssa Zeman
It's a bird, it's a plane ... it's a Burmese monk? Famed artist Shepard Fairey is making his mark in San Diego, literally. Jetting two stories into the sky on the side of a building, a mural is coming to life. Fairey, celebrated for his iconic HOPE poster in support of Barack Obama's presidency, has taken to the streets (or the side of a building) for the Museum of Contemporary Art's "Viva la Revolucion: A Dialogue with the Urban Landscape" exhibit. "Viva la Revolucion" will feature works in the Museum's galleries as well as in public sights throughout downtown San Diego. The exhibit highlights 20 artists worldwide, all linked together by how their work addresses urban issues.

The location of Fairey's mural was undecided until Tuesday afternoon. But the decision was instantly made upon arriving at 2986 Ivy Street in South Park.

"My wife and I are so excited," says Jim Brown, architect and owner of the building that the mural will leave a lasting impression on. With a smile sweeping across his face, he stares at the work in progress with as much satisfaction as a new father. Drawing inspiration from a centuries old photo, gold lattice designs are layered meticulously over a deep red color crawling up the side of the building. The crowning glory is a monk's body and parasol that reaches just to the top of the structure. The hues pop out onto the trendy South Park neighborhood as crowds of fans, bystanders and passersby come and go.

Each piece of the mural's stencil has been scrupulously cut out with an exacto knife on the floor of Fairey's makeshift office at J Walcher Communications. This hospitable PR agency is ecstatic their building was chosen for such an honor. Although it may not seem peaceful today as adhesives and multiple bottles of spray paint are being passed around, J Walcher's president, Jean Walcher, shares her excitement about the peaceful image chosen for the mural. Whereas Fairey's previous works have been more bold, this is just the calm before the storm. Namaste. Written by: