'West Side Story' and Pineapple Butter
One thing I loved and one thing I wanted to love.
Welcome to the Double Feature! Each week I write one thing about entertainment and one thing about food. They’re not related, unless for some reason you think they are, in which case it was definitely on purpose.
I watched: West Side Story
Steven Spielberg’s new West Side Story remake is nearly immaculate. Each frame has been polished to perfection, then dirtied back up just a little bit, somehow achieving an even higher level of perfection. The choreography (by New York City Ballet choreographer Justin Peck) made me pump my fist several times throughout the movie and then afterwards google “dance classes los angeles.” The camera movements, color grading, costume choices: everything feels so correct. Try as I might, I could not stop hooting and hollering at almost every technical choice in the movie. They all work in perfect harmony, like the engine of finely-tuned car.
Yet something in the movie held me at arm’s length, refusing to let me get as engrossed as I wanted to be in Spielberg’s perfectly saturated version of New York.
It might have been the Ansel Elgort of it all, the only actor in the movie who didn’t turn in an amazing performance, and coincidentally, the only actor in the movie credibly accused of sexual assault. I tried to leave that baggage at the door and just enjoy his performance for what it was, but a) that’s impossible and b) his Tony just didn’t have chemistry with Rachel Zegler’s Maria, despite Rachel Zegler’s best efforts (and her efforts are truly wonderful).
It also might have been the run time, which at two hours and 36 minutes stands just past where my attention span starts to show the damage it has suffered in the pandemic. The musical numbers never failed to bring me back in if my attention wandered, they could all be categorized as show stoppers, but some of the longer non-musical scenes found me thinking about doing the few dishes that I had left in the sink.
This movie had so many things I love: enormous group dance numbers, Corey Stoll, playful and exciting uses of lighting, beautifully designed sets—but it just didn’t live up to what I wanted it to be. That’s not to say the movie is bad! I actually think it’s good! I’ll probably watch it again just to enjoy the parts that did resonate with me and to try and solve the puzzle of what didn’t. It just isn’t perfect. Which is frustrating, because it got pretty damn close.
I ate: Duck Al Pastor from Damian
Everything at Damian, the latest restaurant from Mexico City-based chef Enrique Olvera, hammers home a central thesis of comfortable luxury. The low light of the cozy minimalist dining room works in perfect harmony with the vibey Latin jazz soundtrack to create the impression that this is a place to relax, not worry about how much you’re spending on food, and chill with your friends.
The food, the most important part of any restaurant, falls right in line with this. Each of head chef Jesus “Chuy” Cervantes’s menu items is a chefy interpretation of a classic Mexican dish, meant to be shared with the table. Diners order everything they want in one go, and the meal is then coursed out by the kitchen, so plates flow endlessly to the table. It makes for an absurdly decadent experience.
No dish on the menu nails the feeling that Damian’s going for better than the duck al pastor. They perfectly sear a spice-marinated duck breast, top it with herbs, onion, and chilis, plate it alongside a dollop of miraculous pineapple butter, and serve it with house-made corn tortillas. The meat tastes rich and flavorful, but the true star (as betrayed by this newsletter’s headline) is the pineapple butter. You build the tacos yourself at the table, and if you go, do not short yourself on pineapple butter. Heap as much as you can on each taco. Make it your goal to achieve the maximum duck to pineapple butter ratio without running out for the last taco. Don’t be a coward. After all, comfortable luxury is the point.
Thanks for reading The Double Feature! If you this newsletter delivered straight to your inbox, consider subscribing!
I love how restaurants anywhere in Mexico slice the limes and give you limes without asking (that’s my favorite part on this plate, a little tip of the hat to his homeland)
Thank you! You are on!