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Show ™DAILY UTAH CHRONICLE Friday, March 3, 2006 Paradise misplaced Local factory doesn't quite measure up to artisan-style cuisine Jenni Koehler Chronicle Food Critic D espite its charming bakery/ deli/cafe facade, Paradise Bakery & Cafe is, deep down, nothing but a factory. Any close analysis'of Paradise's interior and style of doing things will inevitably lead to that conclusion. Upon entering the warehouse of a building, complete with a network of pipes and air vents in the ceiling and a seemingly limitless expanse of tables, chairs and booths, one is corralled into, as I call it, "The Line," which, though it strongly resembles a cafeteria lunch line, is far more efficient (and yields better food). While in The Line, diners push black plastic trays along one of those motionless conveyor belts constructed out a smoothly polished, marblelike material. On the other side of the counter is a literal assembly line, much like any one would find in a real factory; only this one serves to piece together your meal, one element at a time, and not mechanical contraptions. The assembly line, to which our eyes are gratefully privy, comprises several work-station-like stops and myriad employees functioning like meticulously crafted gears in their respective positions. The Line moves like clockwork: The Paradise Bakery & Cafe offers a variety of lunch-type items, including flavorful chicken, artichoke and cheese panlni, a mouthwatering fire-roasted tomato soup and a savory Thai chicken wrap. First you make a stop at the bakery, then the sandwich station, followed by the salad section, the soup zone, the register—where you pay and get cups—and a self-serve fountain machine area. If the gears—err...employees... yes...in The Line didn't already hand you your finished product, you just go ahead and sit down wherever you like—an employee will bring your food out to you. Or, if you ordered your food to go, just wait, and they'll call you by name. Paradise's bustling atmosphere and incessant commotion are a little daunting at first, but it's all so logically organized and smoothly systematic that you can't help but fall into the rhythm of the factory, insert yourself into the perpetual grind and emerge with a meal. The innumerable employees on both sides of the counter (but mostly behind it) either man their stations dutifully or scamper about like busy insects. Though a few are brusque and But not everything is as disapseem to care most about getting you pointing. through The Line, most are friendly, The chicken, artichoke and cheese courteous and helpful, always will- panini is rich and flavorful, if a little ing to answer questions and explain greasy, the fire-roasted tomato soup things patiently. is downright mouthwatering, and Now, it's pretty clear that America the Thai chicken wrap—composed as. a whole values the factory meth- of grilled chicken breast, jasmine od of production more than its art- rice, cabbage, green onions and carsier, less-efficient ^^_^^_ rots wrapped in a counterpart: doing spinach tortilla with things individually, Paradise Bakery peanut sauce—is saby hand, like they do teET2T00 South" vory and enjoyable. at artisan-style cafes, 485-6100 As for the saldelis and bakeries. U Discount: No ads—it's wiser to Although everything stick with the pasis still constructed Three out of five plates (food) ta salads because by hand at Paradise at least you know (the bread is baked * • • • they're not going fresh, on site, every- Four out of five stars (ambiance) to be 90 percent day—in an enormous $0-10 per person ^^^^mmmmm lettuce. Seriously. oven wall, no less), it Drastically unlike seems that the factory mentality has its photographic representation, the seeped over a bit into the quality-of- Greek salad, for instance, comes as workmanship area. a massive pile of greens with a pitiHanging high on the wall behind ful handful of tomato chunks, a few the counter is a gigantic menu, com- cucumber slices, a piece of pepplete with the sandwiches' and sal- per, about four olives and two—yes, ads' photos, which are blown up TWO!—thinly sliced rings of red onsignificantly to help those of us vi- ion. Oh, yeah, and a few feta crumbles. sually impaired diners. Don't get me Suffice it to say, this is not a tonguewrong—this is all dandy. The prob- or cost-effective salad. It was clearly lem is that, no matter what you or- constructed in an efficiency-driven, der, it just doesn't live up to its pho- practically mechanical factory. to, which invariably looks fresher, Even the cookies—for which Paramore colorful and more generously dise is apparently famous—seem to heaped with ingredients. have been reduced to sheer formula The tomato, basil and mozzarella and therefore lack originality and sandwich is a prime example. In the personality. photo, the bread sandwiches imSo although Paradise uses fresh inmense quantities of sliced mozzarella gredients, bakes its goods itself and and the reddest of red, ripest of ripe assembles its products by hand, it tomatoes, as well as a hearty serv- seems that the assembly-made meal ing of roasted red pepper. In real life, just isn't the best out there. Sure, however, the tomatoes are as unripe it tastes fine and fills you up, but it and unjuicy as it gets, the mozzarella doesn't thrill you, awaken you, or— lacks real flavor, and there is only a and this is the crucial one—truly tiny slab of pepper. And there's no satisfy you. Maybe it's because that real basil—instead there's a dose of secret ingredient, love, is missing. "basil pesto mayo," which is watery But perhaps it's merely been misand bland, imparting no delicious- placed. ness whatsoever to the sandwich. If j.koehler @ anything, it detracts. chronicle.utah.edu ^ The cafe, located at 1010 E. 2100 South, uses fresh Ingredients, bakes its goods itself and assembles Its products by hand. Students perform innovative Japanese art form in Studio 115 Kevin Stan fa Chronicle Writer Jerry Gardner's "Half Moon Rising," an original Butoh dance and theatrical production, opens this week in the department of theater's Studio 115. Called a "dance of darkness," Butoh (pronounced BOO-toe) formed in the wake of post World War II Japan and was first performed in 1959. Though a fairly recent art form, it has spread rapidly throughout the world, largely due to migrating and traveling Japanese performers. It has as many styles as there are performers to produce it. A major staple of Butoh is its use of white body makeup (Kabuki style) but has been known to include gold, silver, red and black. The dance and/or dancers determine the amount of costumes and props in a production, and the styles vary from wild, passionate and chaotic to slow, calm and controlled. Dancers undergo meditations and processes that aim at "unleashing buried impulses" within each performer. "It is an offering of inner spirit," Gardner said. "It is a dance unto itself, for it is the unique expression of the dancer unencumbered by language and tradition and cpnstraint...the body in and of itself reveals the history of humanity." Andrew Abbot, one of "Half Moon's" nine performers, described the experience as nothing he, has ever been able to pursue before. It is "a process of tearing the inside out and revealing the hidden beauty, ugliness and deep impulses that may be buried inside...it's about confronting (your) demons," Abbot said. The show itself is actually inspired by the practice of meditation. The play/dance is a series of images and stories that have occurred between the new moon and the half moon. The smooth performance is meant to convey the continuity of cycles that arise in the mind of the playwright. Abbott said that there is no story, per se, or even an agreed upon line of action that is being pushed on the audience. Instead, the show allows there to be 90 to 100 different stories created by each audience member, who takes something away with himself or herself, "whether it be good or bad," Abbott said. Dancers will be clad in little more than a dance belt and white briefs for the men (who had to shave their heads for the production) and a similar costume with an added top for the women (who dyed their hair black). All nine performers are covered from head to toe in white make-up and add and subtract articles of clothing and fabric throughout the show to suggest characters that arise and affect the performance's tone. Half Moon Rising is a perfect opportunity to see fully produced Butoh works. Some might recognize the art form from earlier this year when actors from the senior class performed it just north of the chemistry building and east of the library. "It's a great way to get unconventional theater to the masses," Abbott said. "If people are open, they will be affected." k.stanfa@ chronicle.utah.edu •-> • - * Seven minutes in heaven Student filmmaker seeks public advice for short work Andreas Petersen Chronicle Writer Last Monday night, U filmmaker Kelly King offered the public a chance to take part in the process of making a film. King's film, "Let Go," a seven-minute short, premiered at the Tower Theater, and before the movie started, comment cards were distributed to be filled out at the end of the movie. The film tells the story of an unnamed man whose wife of two weeks has recently passed away in a car crash, hitting an oncoming car driven by her sister. Wrecked by sheer coincidence and an insurmountable feeling of loss, the man buries himself in his apartment and the memory of the first time he and his wife met. From here on out, the film teaches the audience that though it's hard to not remember, eventually ah1 people must "let go" of what they have lost. John Lawrence and Christina Torriente play their parts in thefilmrealistically, exhibiting believable chemistry in their playful banter—something most actors, not just those in student films and shorts, have a hard time doing. After the film was finished, King invited the audience to participate in a Q&A session. One audience member asked King where he got the idea for the movie. "The film started off as a metaphor," King said, describing a single moment he shared with a woman that was gone just as soon as it started. "This film is a metaphor of those truths we can't deny and the moments that won't let go." After the Q&A, audience members handed their comment cards to one of the film's producers, JJ. Gerber. King said that he would be tweaking the movie based on the comments and planned on finishing it soon. You can watch King's previous work, as well as a trailer for "Let Go," at www. incandescent.us. The film will be shown again tonight at 6:30 p.m. in the Behavioral Sciences Auditorium. a.petersen@ chronkle.utah.edu |