#and remembered WAY more of the dialogue/sound queues than i thought i did-which was already a lot

[serendipitous-mage]

AHAHAAHAHJAAJSBSMDJDNDKMXBWHXI???1??!?!!??

[abbyisawriter]

Queen of Minimalism: Review of Mary Milller

Many fiction writers will tell you that is it extremely difficult and complicated to create characters of interest, of intrigue, of heartbreak, especially in small spaces. Thus, those of us who write incorrigibly long short stories, continuously marvel at the abilities of those who, by some miraculous supernatural being’s blessing, manage to write short short fiction or even flash fiction which moves and breaks and breathes. Mary Miller is one of these amazing writers, who writes her characters to break her readers hearts in such low word counts.

Mary Miller is from Mississippi, born in Jackson and currently living on the Gulf Coast, and she attended undergrad at the University of Southern Mississippi, where Frederick and Steven Barthelme both taught her and, more than likely, inspired and encouraged her minimalist tendencies. She received her MFA from the Michener Center for Writers at the University of Texas, and is a former Michener Fellow in Fiction at the University of Texas and former John and Renee Grisham Writer-in-Residence at Ole Miss. Miller is currently on faculty at the MFA program at Mississippi University for Women. She has two short story collections, Big World (2009) and Always Happy Hour (2017), and she has one novel, The Last Days of California (2014).

 One of Miller’s stories from her first collection, Big World, entitled “Safety” reads at just over 500 words. Yet, in those 500 words, she paints a picture and a character and a story so clear, it is like I have lived it. Part of this, perhaps, is the simplicity and relatability of the story. It is about a woman watching a man cook dinner while they chat and while she contemplates the relationship they cannot have. Perhaps I feel like I have lived it because, well, I have. But there is so much more to this story than the relatability of a story about a young woman written by a young woman read by a young woman: “Safety” is rich with details that closely reflect life as a whole.

The story opens with a short, three sentence paragraph, “He makes dinner while I sit at the two-top and watch. He lives in a house with three other people and a dog, a compost pile and various recycling bins. They hang their clothes on a line to dry, eat a lot of quinoa.” Miller sets the scene and sets me laughing. She does not need to tell me more than this, to expand on the house or the roommates or the dog; I know them already. In a paragraph 44 words long, she has perfectly introduced me to this man and his roommates and his way of life. This would take me, personally, a good two pages, at least, to accomplish. It is more than just short, and it more than just paints the picture clearly with few words—it is funny and conversational. I can picture her, Miller, telling this story, waving her hand dismissively as she says “eat a lot of quinoa.” I know, she knows, we are all rolling our eyes while feeling smug that we are not them and also ashamed that they probably really are better than us.

She does this consistently. She uses a few words to clearly show the reader what the characters are doing, thinking, and feeling, and she does it in a way the actively engages the reader—whether to make the reader laugh and roll their eyes or suck in their breath in shock and hurt (“Think about it—we form relations with people we don’t love so they can’t hurt us, where we’re guaranteed to win. Though really we’re losing.”). This sort of minimalism, “eat a lot of quinoa”, shows Miller’s awareness as a writer. She has clearly identified her audience, and she understand the culture in which they live. She uses this cultural shorthand to her advantage, using queues within her writing to convey a lot of meaning with a few words. This would not work if the reader, or the writer, was not already aware that quinoa gets associated with pretentious Whole Food shoppers and the vegans that constantly remind everyone that they are vegan. If Miller was a less aware writer, she would not be able to pull off this minimalism as well as she does.

While there is a lot of dialogue in “Safety”, Miller does not use quotation marks. Perhaps a little confusing at first; it takes a trained brain a moment to readjust to the style of it all. I think, in the end, it added the conversational and familiar tone of story: it lets the story flow, continuously. Just as the word choice is clear, simple, and minimal, so is the punctuation. This is a different type of minimalism than the one allowed by Miller’s cultural shorthand. This is a more mechanical minimalism, removing unneeded punctuation that is, technically, correct to use but does not add to the overall understanding of the work. Often when writers attempt odd, unusual, or grammatically incorrect punctuation, it often inhibits the actual message of the work from getting across—while many experimental writers and poets have done this successfully, many, many, many others have not. Miller has been successful.  

“The 37” from Miller’s second collection, Always Happy Hour, is much longer than “Safety” at a little over 2,000 words. However, it is still short, as short stories go. While these extra words gives Miller a lot more time to explore actions, similar to “Safety”, not much happens in “The 37”. The story is about a young woman standing at a bus stop having forgotten which bus she is waiting for (hint: it is the 37). She calls her mom, and her mom looks it up for her. She gets on the correct bus, and she goes home. There is not much action, but the story overflows with anxious interior and details about this woman’s life.

Miller uses the simple act of waiting for a bus to explore many anxieties, not just the anxiety relating to the situation of forgetting which bus. She opens the story with the sentence, “I had never ridden a bus before, not a city bus, not a bus where you stood at a bus stop and busses came and you had to know which one to get on and where to get off.” This sentence drips with anxiety. The protagonist reveals through her worries that she just recently moved here, to a city when she has never lived in a city, having just before the move broken up with her boyfriend and dropped out of grad school.  Perhaps, again, I find this personally relatable, having done something similar (I even have a poetry collection about learning the trains in Philadelphia), but, again, I think there is so much more to it than that.

Miller reaches something deeper than that personal, can-only-preach-to-the-choir aspect that some writer’s find themselves stuck in. She goes beyond that and finds the humanity of it all. Anxieties, travel, newness, calling your mom, getting lost, your mom telling you about the cousins with husbands and jobs and families, hating airports, etc. It is familiar to our basic, every day way of life. She mimics our life in such a natural, minimalistic way, and she does it so successfully that it is impossible to not read her stories without inserting your own experiences.

And she could not achieve this relatability, this perfect mimicry, without the minimalism. Miller gives me enough details for me to understand the story, the character, the scene, without clogging down my imagination, letting me remember when I stood at a bus stop for the first time under the summer sun wondering if that was the right bus or not. Her stories can mimic my life because she allows them to become my life, and, then, when her characters feel or fail or succeed or talk or do, it means something so personal to me. As “The 37” ends with the protagonist back in the house she’s renting from her cousin, she thinks how she will learn the new city she is in and how she will overcome this, just as she did that bus stop she sat at for over an hour. It is this thought that comforts her, because it is what will happen, and at least she has gone somewhere because “there were some who never left home, who never went anywhere at all.”

Both of these stories, “Safety” and “The 37”, are written in first person, with often deeply interior narrators. This only adds to the relatability of both stories and their ability to allow the reader to self-insert. More importantly though, it allows for a minimalism that a third person would not. Third person demands so much more exterior motion and movement and description, while first person allows a flexibility of thought and feeling—true shorthand to life’s experiences. Since both of these stories of minimal action, they need the first person interior to really make them stories, and they need them to allow the cultural shorthand and the mechanical minimalism, since both can be filtered through the narrative perspective.

Vincent Scarpa says in the introduction to his interview with Mary Miller for Electric Lit something that I think sums up her work well and is worth repeating here:

I think of Mary’s stories . . . as apertures through which we, her readers, are given the opportunity to witness, however briefly, a life in the process of being lived. Perhaps this sounds somewhat reductive, or not on the face of it an altogether captivating characterization, but at a time when it seems so much of contemporary short fiction is interested in massive world-building, in grandiosity, in purportedly clever conceits that ultimately obscure a reader’s ability to engage with a character, I find Miller’s stories so generously, beautifully fortifying.

I, always so interested in massive world-building, in grandiosity, thoroughly enjoy reading the way Mary Miller captures the brief moments of life in beautiful, minimal apertures, and I have excitedly added her novel, The Last Days of California, to my post-graduation reading list.

[whimstories]

Grocery time flirt

A/N: I knew I wanted to do another fluff month piece and I suffer with dialogue so I did a pure dialogue exercise! I rewrote this four times and now I put it on queue and I have until it posts to edit it. 

Comments and critiques are super helpful!

(Adrien/Mari)

“Handwritten grocery list. I didn’t know adults were allowed to do that publicly anymore.”

“Adults aren’t allowed to make bad puns without children around either.”

“Well, I guess neither of us are adults.”

“Oh shoot, now how will I buy all this alcoho—OOH HELLO!”

“Um, hi? I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“You—nah! I S-saw you and realized you’re more intoxicating than my basket of liquor. No, wait—I mean.”

“Wow, that was a fast recovery.”

“Girls tell me  that in more intimate settings. No, shit, I did not say that.”

“Nuh-uh, I heard you loud and clear. Do you wait in this aisle just to test out new material on strangers?”

“What? No way! I don’t usually blurt those out, I’m sorry. I’m a well behaved French citizen, man’s honor.”

“No, no, I’m afraid your cover is blown. I haven’t laughed that hard in a while, I have to thank you.”

“You didn’t find it cheesy?”

“Oh it was completely cheesy, but it takes guts to say that out loud. In a grocery store. In the wine section.”

“I was surprised…”

“By my intoxication?”

“Hey! You’re sassier than I thought.”

“I may be short, but I am fierce with my words.”

“You’re not short, you’re—.”

“Fun-sized? I’ve heard that before.”

“I wouldn’t mind having some fun with you.”

“Oh brother. When I pass the last stack of beer bottles will your flirting powers magically disappear?”

“Well then we’d enter the baking aisle, and you’d turn from intoxicating to a cutie-pie.”

“Woow.”

“Are my powers too much for you?”

“Not at all. In fact, this is a very educational experience.”

“On what?”

“Which isle will it take to make a man stop flirting?”

“The wedding aisle?”

“Cute, tomcat.”

“Wait, where are we going? The store suddenly turned a particular shade of pink.”

“I’m guessing you’ve never had a serious girlfriend before. Such a shame.”

“What are you implyin—oh I see. Hey I’ve bought my share of feminine items before.”

“Like what?”

“Your feminine charm.”

“Isn’t that more like an insult?”

“What?”

“You bought my charms. Like I tricked you?”

“You know what they say, with a trick comes a few treats.”

“I don’t feed stray tomcats.”

“You don’t chase them away either.”

“Well, you’re not the worst I’ve seen. And don’t look over my shoulder as I pick up tampons. Only the strays I find in the lingerie aisle are that special. ”

“I’m not special yet?”

“They say special is subjective.”

“I’ll take whatever you give me, princess.”

“Don’t you need to finish your shopping? I have two men calling my name in the frozen section.”

“I didn’t realize I was making you too hot.”

“Direct me to your off button.”

“Oh, princess, I’m hurt.”

“It’s Marinette, tomcat.”

“And I’m Adrien. I knew you were eager to learn my name.”

“Kissing my hand is blocking the aisle.”

“And a kiss from you would silence me forever.”

“Oh so, thats the off switch.”

“Would you like to test it out?”

“You’re cute, but not that cute.”

“But I am cute?”

“You have to have something going for you.”

“I made you laugh! You admitted it earlier.”

“You’re occasionally funny.”

“I’m also a physics professor, fyi. Smart, funny, and cute. I’m too good to be true.”

“Maybe a bit. I almost think my friend planted you here…making asian food tonight?”

“Huh? Oh—uh, yeah. It’s for someone special, actually.”

“Oooh? Smart, funny, cute but not available. There’s the catch.”

“What? It’s not like—well it is, but its—“

“Don’t freak out. I’m joking with you. We had fun. I have to head home anyway. It’s my only day off and my friend is waiting for her booze. It was nice meeting you, Adrien.”

“Umm, yeah…I’ll see you later, maybe?”

“Yeah, it’s possible.”

******

(Mari/Alya)

“Hello, Miss. A message left for you at the front desk.”

“Thank you.”

“Mari, what’s that?”

“Maybe a client. The doormen always have something for me when I get home.”

“Oh my gosh, it’s your day off. You’re not allowed to even think about work.”

“Hey, Alya! Give that—”

“No way! You only get to read it if it meets my approval. Lets see—well look what we have here.”

“What?”

“Gurl! I did not know Adrien Agreste lived in your building!”

“Who? Adrien…Agreste. Like Gabriel’s son, Agreste?”

“Yes! You’re the luckiest girl I know, how did you even snag him. He sounds head over heels for you.”

“Wait, what are you talking about? Give me that.”

“You said you met an Adrien at the store…holy shit, was that him? How did you not know it was THE Agreste?”

“You know how focused I get on design. I honestly forgot Gabriel had a son…”

“He was completely home schooled, but his face was still plastered all over Paris for the better part of his teen years. Did his face fill out from angel to sex-demon or something? I swear, you are so scatterbrained sometimes.”

“You’re the journalist, not me. Wow, look at this poem though. He says he wants a date at his apartment. What should I say? I wasn’t ready for this.”

“Look, he said, ‘Never a second glance, but love takes a chance’. He’s kept tabs on you living here and you never noticed?”

“It’s a big building. Give me some credit.”

“Well, you met him. You said he was pretty great earlier.”

“Yeah, but when I left he said he had someone special—“

“Catch up! It was you!”

“You think so?”

“Oh gosh, you’re killing me. It’s you. He’s asking you out; say yes. Easy? How are you going to respond?”

“It’s for tomorrow so…I can respond with a message too I guess? A response poem?”

“That’s my girl.”

**************

(Adrien/Mari)

“You know, even with your letter, I was scared you wouldn’t show.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Hmm, we’ve lived in the same building for almost a year? I’m the son of the biggest fashion brand in France while you’re a fashion designer, yet you didn’t recognize me once? My face was once plastered all over France? If I didn’t have your attention back then, what’s so different now.”

“Ehh, to be fair, I’m surrounded by beautiful people all the time. I’m more focused on the finished product.”

“Well, I certainly feel special now. You know, I was really surprised to see you at the store.”

“I remember.”

“No, I mean, really surprised. You know that list on my hand? One of the doormen on the front desk wrote it down for me right after talking to you.”

“Why?”

“Well, I know you have a habit of ordering a lot of takeout. The doormen happen to mention it. I thought ‘maybe she would be impressed by a guy that can cook for her’.”

“No way.”

“Yeah. So, please, act overly impressed by my considerate gesture.”

“You really do like me.”

“You’re just catching on, princess?”

“I didn’t think—-well I had no idea. I know I can be slow at times but, how did I not know?!”

“I don’t mind. You’ll be falling just as hard in no time.”

“Are you saying I’m fast attracted to your magnetic pull, Mr Physics Professor?”

“See, we’re already speaking the same language. You can’t deny science.”

“How about I experiment on that off button of yours, for a start.”

“I’ll take what I can get, princess.”

[mgjansen81]

Restaurant profile: Nieves Barragán M...

New Post has been published on https://makesomethingtasty.com/restaurant-profile-nieves-barragan-m/

Restaurant profile: Nieves Barragán M...

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Over a decade ago, two young Spaniards arrived in London without a word of English or a moment’s hospitality experience between them. Now, Nieves Barragán Mohacho and José Etura are set to open one of London’s most eagerly  anticipated new restaurants of 2018. Tom Vaughan hears their story

There’s a political poignancy to the Sabor story. Zoom back to the very beginning and owners Nieves Barragán Mohacho and José Etura were just two non- English-speaking Spanish kids in London, hoping to grab a lucky break. It came – as it so often does – from the hospitality industry. Fast-forward to 2018 – via two fêted careers at London’s Barrafina restaurants – and as the government clanks its way towards a Brexit deal, these two EU migrants are days away from   launching one of the capital’s most eagerly anticipated openings, Sabor. “I was coming for one year to learn English,” reflects Barragán Mohacho.  “But I was still learning, learning all the time – I kept telling my mum ‘I don’t want to go back to my town yet’. Now, 20 years have passed and here we are!”

The buzz around the restaurant, which has been building for the best part of a  year, reflects the esteem with which diners hold the duo following their time  together at Barrafina. Sitting in their new restaurant, with bubble wrap still on the chairs and the chatter of chefs getting to grips with the open kitchen, the pair are adamant that now was the right time to go it alone. “We loved Barrafina, we  loved what the Harts [owners and brothers Eddie and Sam] did for us, but we needed to do something for ourselves and to bring something new to London,” explains Barragán Mohacho. Etura agrees: “We had a great concept that we really believed in, so now was the time.”

In February 2017 the pair parted ways with Barrafina, where they’d helped  launch the original Frith Street restaurant in 2006, followed by subsequent Adelaide Street, Drury Lane and Dean Street sites, with Barragán Mohacho as executive chef and Etura rising from a humble glass cleaner to operations director. Now going it alone, their aim from the very beginning has been to bring unabashed regional Spanish food to Londoners.

Helping hands To make this happen, however, they needed the backing of business partners. And luckily, shortly after leaving Barrafina, they landed themselves one of the hottest players in the game – JKS Restaurants, owners of Trishna, Gymkhana, Hoppers, Bubbledogs and Bao (all in London). “One of our friends knew the guys there,” explains Barragán Mohacho, “so we approached them. The first thing they said was ‘we never thought you guys would come to us’. They were so happy and so were we.”

With JSK impressed by the pair’s concept for Sabor – which draws on influences  from the regional cuisines of the Basque Country, Castile and Galicia – the pair next had to find a site. “We only saw one and we fell in love straight away,” says Etura. “But we weren’t the only ones who wanted it. Twelve others were interested, and it was narrowed down to six. And then the owners, the Crown Estate, told us we had to do a test against them!”

That’s right: to get their Heddon Street site in Mayfair, the pair had to win an old-fashioned cook-off. It was time to put Sabor’s concept to the test. Barragán  Mohacho whipped up for the judges what the duo hope will become the stars of Sabor: suckling pig cooked Castile-style in a wood-fired oven, Galician pulpo a la feira (octopus simmered in a copper pot), and Castilian caldeira fish stew.

“They called us two hours later – they said they didn’t have to think about it, we  were the unanimous choice!” says Barragán Mohacho.

Jamon salad

If the regional Spanish concept sounds like a pitch-line to investors that might be  lost on the average diner, a walk through the new site proves otherwise. It’s not just a few lines in a dish description that separates the different cuisines, but whole areas of the restaurant – with a downstairs bar, counter-top restaurant, and an upstairs asador (a wood-fired oven) all featuring different menus and  atmospheres.

“If you want to eat at the bar it is more like the south of Spain – tapas dishes,  Andalucían-style olives, jamón. If you want to eat at the restaurant it is more like Basque or Catalan food. But if you really want a brasserie feel, you can eat upstairs, where it is big family-style sharing food from Castile and Galicia. It’s a journey through Spain,” says Barragán Mohacho.

The aim for Sabor is to have a core of signature dishes supplemented by a daily changing seafood display and seasonal vegetables.

“You could eat every day different or every day the same,” explains Barragán  Mohacho. And it’s those signature dishes that are already getting pulses racing – upstairs, those big sharing dishes of suckling pig, octopus and giant empanadas are soaking up plenty of the attention, but downstairs, the likes of arroz con salmonetes (crispy skinned red mullet sat atop silky rice) and wild rabbit empanadillas are equally as enticing.

Kitchen drama As with Barrafina, an open kitchen – decked out in Andalucían tiles – is at the heart. After years under the watchful eye of her diners, would Barragán Mohacho ever want to go back to the anonymity of a closed kitchen? “Never! This is one of the things I enjoy and the staff enjoys so much – listening to your guests, hearing the feedback straight away. This is the most important thing for my chefs  relaxing and talking to the customers.”

Dialogue is key. When Barrafina first opened, Spanish food in the UK was mostly paella and tapas chains, and Barrafina was certainly a gamble on the part of Sam and Eddie Hart. A no-bookings tapas bar at a time when reservations were as crucial to a restaurant as running water? “You didn’t know if it was going to be a success or close the next day,” says Etura. “Who wants to wait in a line? Now so many places don’t take bookings. They both deserve huge credit for that.”

A big part of that success was down to their secret weapon – Barragán Mohacho.  After arriving aged 20 from the sleepy port town of Santurtzi near Bilbao, with no hospitality experience and no English, she landed a first job as a kitchen porter at Simply Nico’s in London.

“It was hard. At that time it was a different world,” she says. “The only way to get respect was to show people you could do it. So if I had to peel something, I made sure I was the fastest at peeling because I wanted the job. Two months later I was working in the cold section.”

The one year she’d planned to spend in London turned to two, three and then  four as she began scraping her way up the industry ladder. And when the Hart brothers opened their first Spanish restaurant, Fino’s, head chef Frenchman Jean-Philippe Patruno decided that he needed some native knowledge and remembered the determined young female chef he’d worked with at Simply  Nico’s.

Before long, Barragán Mohacho took over as head chef and then helped the boys  open the first Barrafina. How much of that restaurant’s DNA was hers? “Sam and Eddie used to live in Barcelona and go to Cal Pep, and they would say ‘we need to open something like this in London’. So it was their idea. But the menu – that was my menu.”

It was at Barrafina where she met Etura, who was trying to learn English to help what he hoped would be a career in business. A master at managing the  restaurant’s long queue with renowned grace, he quickly rose from glass washer to operations manager.

As they both share their back stories you can easily believe them – Barragán  Mohacho with the sort of steely determination that would have her win a peeling competition with her eyes closed, and Etura exuding the kind of affable charm that would still leave you smiling after telling you there was a two-hour wait for a table. And at Barrafina, the small, open space gave both personalities a chance  to shine Most importantly, the open kitchen gave Barragán Mohacho a chance to demystify many of the dishes. “Customers can see, hear and smell the cooking – you can’t get better than that. It makes it very easy to sell dishes.”

Tastes of Spain As Barrafina’s success grew, so did its more esoterically  Spanish offerings, including milk-fed lamb’s brain and sherry. Are there any Iberian secrets left for Sabor to popularise? “There’s the suckling pig and the octopus, of course, and vermouth,” smiles Etura. “In Spain, people will stop in on a Sunday for a  vermouth and tapas and then go home for a Sunday lunch. I’d love to see people doing that here.”

There’s barely time to dwell on the other fastidious details of Spanish culture the pair have sourced – the dedicated jamón carver they’ve brought over from southern Spain, the weighty earthenware dishes to serve the suckling pig and octopus, the imported clay oven, the Andalucían tiles that clad the open kitchen.

Bearing in mind how much they rely on their homeland for inspiration, be it ingredients or cookware, has the Brexit vote made things harder? “For sure,”  replies Etura, sitting upright as soon as the topic is raised. “The pound is weaker  against the euro, which immediately makes it more expensive to bring things over. Probably we will have to start paying people more to entice them to come  to London when they could go to Germany or Spain or France to learn and not have to worry about a visa. It’s sad – just as it looks like globalisation is bringing  people together, we choose to pull away.”

As the interview wraps up, I remind them what a great story theirs is and I catch  sight of their kitchen porters, beavering away. How many don’t speak English? I  ask. “A few,” replies Barragán Mohacho. “But we’re here to help them.” And so it hopefully continues.

Sabor

The restaurant Covers 19 (and six on the terrace) Bookings No Style A dining counter facing an open kitchen Menu Draws on influences from Catalonia and the Basque Country as well as  from across Spain. Dishes include wild rabbit empanadilla; Jerusalem artichoke  and jamón tortilla; arroz con salmonetes (crispy-skinned red mullet with rice); and bombas chocolate with coffee toffee sauce. A daily changing seafood counter will display fish that can be ordered by weight Team Six chefs on service Average spend £35 before drinks

The bar Covers 25 Bookings No Style Inspired by the tapas bars of Andalucía Menu Drinks will include eight different Spanish gins, sherry, wine, txakolis and vermouths from across Spain, including draught vermouth from producer  Martínez Lacuesta. Dishes include cured presa Iberica; Morcilla croquetas with pine nut sauce and fresh walnuts; and Andalucía-style olives Seating Guests happy to wait for a seat in any area can drink at the bar Team Two bar staff and a dedicated jamón carver Average spend £25 before drinks

The asador Covers 29 Bookings Will take reservations but seats are reserved for walk-ins Location Upstairs, via a wrought-iron spiral staircase Style Large sharing tables and an open kitchen featuring an asador (wood-fired oven) sourced from Castile and giant copper pots Menu Focuses on Castilian-style whole suckling pig and octopus cooked in copper pots with olive oil and paprika and served on earthenware sharing platters.  Other dishes will include crab empanada, Castilian caldeira (fish stew) and a daily changing whole fish on the bone Team Three chefs on service Average spend £35 before drinks

Vermouth: the next big thing? “Our draft vermú – in Spanish you can use either the word vermú or vermut, and prefer the first one – is going to be Martínez Lacuesta from La Rioja, a winery  founded in 1895 and still run by the same family,” says José Etura. “We will also have his Vermú Reserva, which is barrel-aged in French oak. “There will also be vermú from Jerez – the red has sweet notes as it is made from Pedro Ximénez grapes, and the white comes from Amontillado, so it will be dry and nutty. And we have Yzaguirre Blanco and Rojo – founded in Tarragona in 1884 and still run by the same family. One of the most popular vermús in Spain, it uses 80 botanicals and is made from the original recipe.

“Finally, we have Mariol Blanco. I like this – it has an intense aroma. This was  founded 100 years ago in Batea [Catalonia] and the business is run by the great-grandsons of the founders, Marta and Josep Maria.”

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[fiolsvinn-blog]

Sakurada Reset Review

So, I thought about giving a review once I finish seasonal animes, and since I dropped this one (a few weeks ago already in fact) I’ll give a quick review I guess. Not like I have much to say anyway. Potential spoilers regarding the very first episodes.

Synopsis: In the little town of Sakurada, that some asshats write “Sagrada” for some reason, about half of the inhabitants have special powers, be it telepathy, communicating with cats or cancelling stuff. The MC, Kei Asai, has the power to remember everything. He is paired up by some classmate with Misora Haruki, a girl who has the power to reset time to a precedent “save”, but can’t remember herself she has resetted once she did. Together, they will help solve mysteries in Sakurada.

What I thought : The premise sounded kinda cool, especially regarding the actual nature of the powers. Screw pyrokinesy, super-strength and normal stuff, here we can go into reflections (but not out), live off informations like it’s food and stuff like that. And actually, the two first episodes felt kinda sorta promising, but the most interesting character ended up dying. Then it turned pretty dark for a moment, then just... ultra dull. And so many things simply didn’t work. Kei has the emotional capacity of an oyster basically, and Haruki simply hasn’t heard of that concept. So far it’s fine by me, but they *both* have a deep understanding of their client’s feelings and personas, which they shouldn’t be able to do... Plus, it makes a vast collection of cringy attempts to be meta and self-referencing (the McGuffin, Oka Eri doing her best to be the villain and actually stating it multiple times per episode). And it felt like it had no direction whatsoever, most dialogues are pretty empty and feel like they’re just there because they decided to stretch the action of one episode over three of them. Visually, it had quite a few pretty scenes, but it is wasted by horrible CGI at points (especially for the buildings ; they feel even more soulless than the MCs), and I can’t remember much about the music, but it sounded quite fine.

Why I dropped it : You will see some pretty horrible stuff pop in the few days (well, Clockwork Planet’s last episode should be out by now), yet I haven’t dropped them, even though they are way worse than Sakurada Reset, wo why did I drop it? Well, it’s basically because it was so empty and boring. Nothing happened anymore. I couldn’t find new things to say about it when I was watching it. And I have seen scenarios that were pretty much all over the place, but this one just felt like it was actively trying not to go anywhere... I would give this one a 5/10 so far, as it it just awfully, terribly average in some respects ; I mean, I haven’t done this sooner because I kept forgetting about it. It do it now because I remember about doing reviews because of Clockwork Planet. That’s how average and forgettable Sakurada Reset was to me. However, if I hear it gets better later on, I would probably try again.

So, that was my first anime review ever. The following ones should be more complete though, since, well, I have dropped this one, thus I don’t have a lot to say, except that it’s boring. Tell me what you thought about it, or if you think something is missing in my review (but maybe wait for the next review for that, since it will be more representative of what a full-on review is). Also don’t freak out, I will say a lot of horrible things about the next one, Clockwork Planet. It’s just a coincidence, I pretty much loved every other anime I’ve seen this season, buuut it just so happens that those two would follow each other in my reviewing queue.

Also, “meh” means “great” in Middle Persian.