Starbucks snobery

A woman in my real estate class recently walked up behind me and remarked that I ought to buy stock in Starbucks. I guess this was a poorly-veiled attempt to let me know she thinks I’m a Starbucks snob, as I came to class each Saturday and Sunday morning with a Starbucks coffee in hand. I simply turned to her and replied, “Well, that would be a pretty bad idea since their stock is going down.” She just stared blankly… I don’t think she evoked the desired reaction. So I added “But their coffee is still pretty damn good.”

Which brings me to my point. Or rather, my challenge:

I challenge anyone to find a better coffee shop in Asheville than the Biltmore Village Starbucks. I promise to go there and try it out (or re-try it out, as it may be).

I’ve been to most of the coffee shops in the Asheville area. I even worked at one when I first moved here. What I’ve discovered is that none of them are really cheaper than Starbucks, and the coffee isn’t better than Starbucks, and the customer service doesn’t even compare to Starbucks. The best non-Starbucks coffee in Asheville is at Malaprop’s. But their employees aren’t the friendliest, and it’s not convenient to stop there en route to work.  Plus, it’s rather frustrating that you aren’t allowed to read unpurchased books from their fabulous bookstore in the cafe. Even if the reason is valid, I don’t like being treated like a child, and that’s how the no-books-allowed-in-the-coffee-shop-because-you-might-spill-something-on-a-book-rule makes me feel.

So Malaprop’s is out of the running–great coffee, inconvenient location, annoying rules. (Though it is the best independent bookstore I’ve visited, even if they did do away with those super-cool chalkboard walls in the bathrooms.)

I’d love for someone to prove me wrong about the Biltmore Village Starbucks, I just don’t think it’s gonna happen. I’ve been going there at least 3-4 times a week for the past year, and they’ve messed up my latte once (only to give me a new drink, my money back, and 2 free drink coupons for future use). Everyone who works there knows my name, my boyfriend’s name, what I order, where I work, who I want to be the next president. They notice when I get my hair cut, they notice when I don’t come in for a few days, they laugh at my jokes (regardless of whether they’re funny). So all those things that people love about small businesses, Starbucks has acheived.

It’s trendy to be anti-Starbucks, especially around Asheville. I really don’t understand why. Yeah, yeah, corporations are bad. I get it. But what about the people who work for those corporations? And have all the anti-Starbucks people noticed how damn good the coffee is? Starbucks is a charitable corporation, they contribute to the local community, and they treat their employees like gold. Where else can a part-time employee get health insurance and a 401K?

Seen those “Friends don’t let friends drink Starbucks” bumper stickers? Isn’t that being anti-something just for the sake of being anti-something? I wonder if those are the same people who pull up to Earth Fare in their 8-cylinder SUVs, buy a bunch of packaged crap they don’t need, glare at a passerby who drops a gum wrapper on the ground, and then lament the perils of global warming on the way home. I believe organic is better, recycling should be the law, and we should all patronize indpendent businesses. But I admit I’m not perfect, I can’t always afford to buy organic, and I’ve thrown plastic bottles in a garbage can. Moreover, sometimes corporations cream the independent competition with better products, friendlier employees, and yes, good values. Sometimes they earn my patronage.

So bring it on: find me a better coffee shop than Biltmore Starbucks.

Home sweet home

I flew home to New Jersey on Monday. And then I flew home to Asheville last night. It’s a weird state of mind, really.

Which one is truly home? Obviously I live in Asheville, and I’ve started to refer to it as home. But I’m not ready to stop calling Jersey or Philly home.

One thing is for sure though: people in NJ now have accents. OK, they’ve had accents all along, but now I hear them.  And Southern people still sound a bit funny to me.

Is that what a home is? Wherever the people don’t sound funny? In that case I guess I’m homeless.

Being in Jersey was perplexing to my psyche. I didn’t quite fit in: the cars went too fast, the people talked too fast, and I actually got lost 10 minutes from where I grew up. But then there was this internal sense of relief being around people who love Philly sports, know what pork roll is, and don’t think Olive Garden is good italian food… oh, and the radio stations actually play good music (I complained about them when I lived there, little did I know how much worse it could be).

All these mixed emotions made me realize that Asheville is just an easier place to call home. Almost anyone would feel comfortable here. For every redneck, there’s a hippie. Plus the rednecks are actually a lovely shade of pink, while the hippies are the credit card variety. It’s all so nonthreatening. Even if you’re an iPhone toting, fast talking, high-fashion model from Manhatten, you’ll feel comfortable here just because Ashevillians are so happy (certainly happier than NYers), and it’s hard to be uncomfortable around happy people.

More than half the people I’ve met here in Asheville aren’t from here. They flock to Asheville because there’s something for everyone, rather than everything for someone… and it turns out the former is pretty appealing.

In my family we call Key West the Island of Misfits. So I think that makes Asheville the Valley of Misfits.

Considering I ate at Olive Garden when I went home (to Jersey), I’d say my Northern taste has been compromised. Asheville may not be my only home but I’m now a Southern Yankee at the very least.

Not so Adornable

Well, I spoke too soon.

(which is nothing new for me, by the way)

A few days ago I raved about Adorn… you know, Asheville in a salon.

And then as I sat in the chair last night looking at my newly acquired splotchy, yellow-gold highlights, I realized cheap only gets you so far. Apparently it gets you a good haircut, but the buck stops several yards short of good color.

But I’m not going to throw Adorn under the bus for one reason, and it’s the same reason I liked the place so much to begin with: authenticity.

I’ve been to enough salons where they talk about customer service, and plaster the words all over their website and marketing materials, until someone screws up and then suddenly it’s about money and ego. Service? Oh I provided a service. And you need to pay for it. Nevermind that the service received was a hideous shade of maroon that took 2 years to get rid of (I’m not bitter, I swear).

And worse than the expectation that you’ll pay for someone else’s mistake is having to deal with their ego. I don’t care how many years experience you have, or what you “thought” the color would look like–if you mess up, and I don’t like it, get over yourself and own up to your mistake. It’s not personal, so don’t take it personally.

Good service doesn’t mean never making a mistake… it’s about how you handle mistakes. And in this respect, Adorn lives up to its promise. I got an immediate apology, a quick fix to return my hair to its normal color, and an invitation to come back at whatever day and time I wanted. Payment never entered the equation. The stylist seemed genuinely sorry she messed up, and was willing to do whatever was required to fix it. That’s authenticity, and its what many upscale salons lack.

So I don’t recommend you go get highlights at Adorn. And I didn’t enjoy sitting there for 3 hours to get slightly orange-tinted hair.

But the stylists are still sweet, and they do indeed give great haircuts. Better yet, they pratice real customer service.

Stoney Knob

 

I’m a sucker for mushroom raviolis… and Stoney Knob’s are the best.

Just imagine: Wild Mushrrom stuffed Ravioli infused in a Sun-Dried Tomato, Garlic, Walnut Cream Sauce with Parmesan & Feta Cheese.

And they’re even better than they sound.

Apparently the other meals at Stoney Knob are excellent, not that I would know. Those raviolis even kept me coming back when the restaurant seemed to be faltering (twice I was served salad with one transparent cucumber and a tiny sliver of tomato, plus the service was spotty).

But the last time I visited, Stoney Knob seemed to be back on its feet.  A new menu, a great waitress, and a chock-full salad (I recommend the blue cheese dressing). Best of all, we sat out on the enclosed porch and got to listen to rain beating down on the tin roof.

It’s difficult to describe the place–the food is perhaps Mediterranean-fusion, and the decor is just strange. You might think they have an identity crisis, but that’s fitting around here. Located on Merrimon Avenue in Weaverville, it’s kind of a pain getting there from just about anywhere, but it’s worth the drive. (Warning: the entrance sneaks up on ya, you’ll probably whiz right by the first time you go…and maybe the second and third times too).

Check out their site, though I don’t think the new menu is up yet, so keep that in mind.

Stoney Knob Cafe 

Alum Cave Bluffs Trail

So I’m gearing up to re-hike the trail I said I’d never hike again.

Easily the most beautiful trail I’ve climbed in NC (or North America for that matter), Alum Cave Bluffs Trail is not for the casual hiker. Believe me, I know from experience.

Here I am at Inspiration Point:

At this moment I had no idea what was ahead of me, but that’s probably the only reason I kept going.  You’ll gain 2400 feet from the trailhead by Alum Cave Creek, under Arch Rock, up to Inspiration Point, through the Alum Cave Bluffs, and all the way up to LeConte Lodge, which tops out at 6400 feet. The payoff is well worth the struggle, especially if you plan ahead and reserve a cabin at the lodge (instead of having to turn back around so you can beat the sun down the mountain).  The lodge employees actually use llamas to get supplies to LeConte…I bet those llamas have a much easier climb than I did!

Anyway the descent is actually the worst part of the trip, though I suspect I might stave off the shin splints by resting overnight at the lodge. I’d call Alum a moderate to difficult hike, but admittedly I’m not a seasonsed outdoorswoman by any stretch of the imagination.

Click for a good write-up on Alum Cave Bluffs Trail.

I’ll let you know how it goes the second time around…

Adornable

It seems like there are 1,204,568 salons in Asheville.

I think I’ve found Asheville in a salon.

Quirky, fun, colorful, authentic, creative, artsy, and… cheap.

OK, Asheville’s not cheap. But that’s why I love this place–it’s the only place I can afford to get a haircut 3 times a year (rather than once) while living in Asheville.

I got sucked in by this language at www.AdornSalonandBoutique.com:

“Our prices are accessible, which shows our clientele that we appreciate regular folk who work hard for their money.”

That’s me! I thought. I work hard for my money!

My favorite Adorn feature: The station mirrors are hung on old doors spray-painted gold.

The stylists are sweet, and they give great haircuts to boot.

Frida at Asheville Art Museum

It’s a woman, in case you were wondering.

Mexican artist Frida Kahlo, to be precise.

The Asheville Art Museum will be screening “Frida”, the award-winning film about Mexican artist Frida Kahlo, May 3-4 at 2 pm. The film, starring Selma Hayek as Kahlo, was nominated for 6 Oscars, and won 2, in 2003. The Asheville Citizen Times writes: “Kahlo’s life was a beautiful and tragic one that intertwined her painting, politics and sexuality.” (4.25)

It’s the sexuality that’s most obvious to me. As I alluded to earlier, her self portraits seem to indicate some deep-seated gender issues. I saw the Frida exhibit at the Philadelphia Museum of Art in March, and while I was transfixed by the vibrant colors she used, I found the masculinity of her portraits frankly disturbing. Amid the paintings were black and white photos of Kahlo in her youth–she was actually quite beautiful (admittedly, the unibrow needed to go).

It has since occured to me that part of why I find her self-portraits disturbing is because I understand how she felt, somehow. Growing up, my brothers were my heroes, and I wanted nothing but to be just like them. Perhaps Tomboy would be the appropriate word… I cut worms in half with bricks, sported a super-short haircut, climbed trees, wore hand-me-down neon Umbros… you get the point. And while I’d hardly call myself masculine-looking nowadays, I do look in the mirror occasionally and think to myself, I look like a boy, all evidence to the contrary.

Anyway, perhaps the most interesting detail of all her paintings can be seen below:

Compare the size of her feet to her husband’s. He is much larger than her overall in this photo, but the feet are especially striking. What do you think it means?

blogging to myself

Well I’m told I’ll be blogging to myself for a while… but I don’t seem to have a problem talking to myself, so this should be easy.

Raucous Rooster is an idea I dreamed up one day last summer. I discovered the super popular e-newsletter Daily Candy (www.dailycandy.com), and thought Dany Levy’s ingenious e-zine formula might be put to use informing people about something more interesting than a $500 Yomo handbag. Asheville, in my estimation, is much more interesting than an overpriced purse.

This is a blog, I realize, not an e-newsletter. But blogs are free, thus the evolution of my idea.

So it’s my intention to ruminate about Asheville and surrounding areas… breathtaking hikes, strange sights, cars plastered with 17 bumper stickers (and the awful drivers who steer them), local characters, spicy food, my failing effort not to acquire a southern drawl, cool artists, superior small businesses, a little Asheville history… whatever seems relevant (and probably plenty that isn’t). Hopefully, somewhere along the line, someone reading this will think Cool, I never heard of that before.

Peace.