Connecticut Post | Sunday, September 27, 2015

How far can you go with an extra-extra-large white T-shirt and some common office supplies? A glimpse inside artist Emily Larned’s lookbook

By JOE MEYERS / PAGE 8

XXL ART

FASHION | 5

A manly makeover goes a long way with subtle touches

HOME | 6

When downsizing means parting with oversized stuff

FOOD | 7

Distilling the details of an old whiskey’s new popularity

D2 | Connecticut Post | Sunday, September 27, 2015

Editor’s Note

SUNDAY MAGAZINE

Group Publisher Henry B. Haitz III

Executive Editor Barbara T. Roessner

Features Editor Eileen Fischer

efischer@hearstmediact.com

Creative Director Lee Steele

lsteele@hearstmediact.com

CONTRIBUTORS

Rosemarie Anner, Melanie Barnard, Phyllis A.S. Boros, Mitch Broder, Christopher

Brown, Amanda Cuda, Susan Granger, David

Gunn, Christina Hennessy, Bob Horton, Joel Lang, Karlene Lukovitz, Joe

Meyers, Mike Ross, Lidia Ryan, Christopher Setter,

Todd Tracy

ADVERTISINGDirector of Sales

Strategy & Operations Patricia Luzzi

pluzzi@hearstmediact.com 203-360-2856

FIND US ONLINE AND POST YOUR

COMMENTSwww.sunday

magazinect.com

Send us your ideas efischer@hearstmediact.com

“S”stands for Sunday,

that one day of theweek many of us stillreserve for reading. Wemay even indulge the

luxury of thinking — not about work stress ormounting debt or fraught relationships (allthat weekday stuff ), but about art, ideas, aninteresting meal, a provocative film or a muse-um we’ve always meant to visit. It’s a day towander, linger, stumble upon a surprisingconversation, have a good laugh. The essenceof Sunday is what S Magazine is all about.

In this, the inaugural issue of Hearst Con-necticut’s new arts and lifestyle publication,we’ve tried to capture the eclectic nature ofthe place we inhabit. It’s New England, yes,but it’s also New York City metro. It’s con-gested and dense and built, yet its naturallandscape is breathlessly beautiful. It’s paro-chial and small, but also provocative and cos-mopolitan.

We care a great deal about “local” here —

local schools, local sports, local business, localnews and information. But we hail fromaround the globe. Have you been to Green-wich Avenue lately, or Main Street in Dan-bury? The array of languages literally speaksto the polyglot nature of who we are.

And so you will find in these pages a first-person piece by humorist Mitch Broder, anaccomplished author and a man whose sarto-rial taste he describes as “baggy.” We took onelook at him and decided he’d be the perfectcandidate for a fashion makeover. He resisted.We insisted. He lost his heart to a pair ofFerragamo loafers. For fashion with a devilishtwist, you’ll meet Emily Larned, a Bridgeportartist who created 54 ways to style a plainwhite T-shirt and then arranged them in anironic “lookbook.” You’ll go to Ridgefield for ataste of artisanal bourbons, and to Stamfordfor the first meeting of our new film club,appropriately dubbed “Movie & A Martini.”After watching a documentary on the legend-ary verbal showdowns between Gore Vidal

and William F. Buckley Jr., our volunteer film-goers got together to — what else — discuss.

There’s much more to S, including an ex-cerpt from a new novel by Westport writerJane Green. There aren’t too many newspa-pers publishing fiction these days. But thenthere aren’t too many places teeming withfiction writers. We’re grateful to have them inour midst, and honored to share their work.

S Magazine is the product of creative mindsfrom throughout Southwest Connecticut. Inaddition to a handful of staffers, we’ve as-sembled a raucous crew of freelance journal-ists, photographers, illustrators and first-timewriters to give our magazine a rare verve.Features Editor Eileen Fischer and CreativeDirector Lee Steele recently gathered us for anafternoon of noshing and drinking. We had aball. We hope you will too.Cheers,Barbara T. RoessnerEXECUTIVE EDITORHEARST CONNECTICUT MEDIA GROUP

Christopher Setter / For Hearst Connecticut Media

The essence of Sunday

Sunday, September 27, 2015 | Connecticut Post | D3

Instead of flowers, why not invite a big blue giraffe to your table?Wonderful as a striking anchor piece suitable for any tablescape,

each animal begins as a hand-sculpted model in Jonathan Adler’sSoho, N.Y., pottery studio before it’s cast in solid blue Lucite and

polished to achieve a smooth finish.Get it: $495, new this month at all Jonathan Adler stores

(including Westport and Greenwich), or jonathanadler.com.— Lee Steele

One Cool Thing

Stick your neck out

The legendary verbalsparring matches be-tween William F. Buck-

ley Jr. and Gore Vidal are whatthe new documentary “Best ofEnemies” is all about.

Happily, I didn’t have to pullanyone apart after the recent“Movie & A Martini” screeningof the film at the Avon Theatrein Stamford — the first of ournew weekly S magazine get-togethers celebrating film andgood talk.

Our meet-up group loved “Best of Ene-mies” — not a single thumbs-down — andthen hung out afterward for a lively butcivil discussion of the documentary.

“I think it showed a more human sideof Buckley,” one audience member saidof the way the longtime Stamford resi-dent regretted losing his cool in his night-ly debates with Vidal during the two na-tional conventions in 1968.

Vidal called Buckley a “crypto-Nazi”and I for one was grateful to the womanwho explained that crypto means “hid-den.”

Everyone agreed that the confrontationbetween the two celebrated writersseemed rather tame when comparedwith the level of discourse these days onFox News, CNN and the other 24/7 cableTV outlets.

“I thought it was fascinating to see thatwe’re facing the same questions now,”another woman said of the “law andorder” debates on police behavior in1968, the question of whether or not thecountry could move past its racist heri-tage and Vidal’s belief that the countryand the political parties were run by awealthy elite.

“And we’re still not united,” she added. An audience member talked about

working with Buckley during his 1965campaign for mayor of New York City. Hesaid that riding around Queens in a lim-ousine with the pundit was still one of hismost memorable experiences.

Each week, we will be meeting at atheater in one of our four newspapers’coverage areas to see something newand interesting, and then adjourn to hashover the pros and cons of the movie inquestion. I’m sharing hosting duties withmy friend Susan Granger, a veteran filmcritic who is one of the most knowledge-able movie people I know. She grew up inHollywood and sees films from a unique-ly informed perspective.

The next “Movie & A Martini” meet-up willbe Thursday, Oct. 1, at 6:45 p.m. at theCriterion Cinemas, 2 Railroad Ave.,Greenwich, where we will see the newRobert DeNiro-Anne Hathaway film, “TheIntern.” Just buy your ticket and meet mein the lobby. Afterwards we’ll adjourn to alocal watering hole. For more informationor to share thoughts on movies, drop me aline at jmeyers@hearstmediact.com.

Movie & A MartiniJoe Meyers

A battle of wits: Vidal vs. Buckley

Contributed photo

D4 | Connecticut Post | Sunday, September 27, 2015

Eileen Fischer: I was a little hesitantabout going to a Japanese restaurant. Idon’t know a thing about Japanese foodexcept sushi, rice and sake. It would be asurprise, I thought, a little like this column.

Lee Steele: I know what you mean. I’malways Googling instructions on the properway to eat sushi. And I’m never as cleverwith chopsticks as I think I am.

E.F.: So we took a trip to Kawa Ni (Japa-nese for “on the river”) in Westport forlunch on an extremely hot and humidafternoon.

L.S.: It’s a tiny hole-in-the-wall. Whenwe parked in the rustic little plaza wherethe restaurant is, I almost missed it. Theonly sign, in English, is on the door, whichwas propped open. I almost yelled at myGPS for driving us to the wrong place.

E.F.: Opened about a year ago by chefBill Taibe (owner of The Whelk and Le-Farm, also both in Westport), the unas-suming little spot near the Saugatuck Riverwas jumping, but the knowledgeable serv-ers were very attentive, juggling menus,

squeezing by chairs, cleaning off tables anddescribing all the dishes starting withguests’ favorites.

L.S.: It’s only 42 seats and modeled on aJapanese pub, or an izakaya, the type youmight visit after work. In the center of theroom is a problematic “communal table,”for larger groups of people in party mode,sitting on stools and laughing hystericallywhen you’re trying to have a conversation.

E.F.: You’re getting grumpier with time.Small plates is the way to go so we pickedsome of the top-sellers: pork gyoza (dump-lings) with red cabbage, salted peanuts andsesame ($14); shaved broccoli and misowith Benton’s ham ($14), a dish highlyrecommended by the waiter.

L.S.: We leaned on the waiter to suggestdishes that would complement each other.The menu changes with what’s availablelocally, so we can’t count on any of thesethings to be on the menu if we return. Wealso ordered chicken meatballs in eel sauce($12) and fried chicken wings with honey-gochujang and sesame, similar to thoseKorean chicken wings invented in Queens,N.Y. ($14). You didn’t give me much of afight when it came to sharing those dishes.

E.F.: I was too busy piling extra serv-ings onto my plate from the rice-ball dome

sitting in the middle of the table. It was socomplex and delicious it was our hands-down favorite dish.

L.S.: I’ve had rice balls in the Italian orLatin-American tradition, so it was in-teresting to taste a Japanese-inspired ver-sion, onigiri, with a pleasingly crispy-

brown exterior and layers of flavor on theinside that are difficult to describe. Thefarm greens inside were seasonal; anothertime there might be crab or kimchi.

E.F.: Gyoza, the pork dumplings, wereperfection, firm and flavorful, especiallywith the accent of the pickled red cabbage.

L.S.: We ordered only four of the 22“share plates” on the menu. Neither of ushad the nerve to order the blowfish tailwith yuzu-brown butter, shishito and yardbeans ($15); or the barbecued eel with kyu-uri asazuke, eel sauce, celariac and blackgarlic ($16) — an item the New York Timesraved about earlier this year. The menuseemed a little hipster-ish in spots, but I’dcome back in a flash and lay down $12 totry the Padron no yaki with yuzu aioli, roe,lime and ramp tskuemono. If you suspectI’m just typing words from the menu,you’re right. I’m way out of my league here.

E.F.: An order of peekytoe crab friedrice with bacon, a lively hint of dill, roastedcorn cut from the cob and topped with afried egg was a meal in itself. There was asplash of spice that I loved, too. I don’tknow why, but the spiciness of the foodwas a surprise to me, pleasant yet not over-whelming.

L.S.: I was more struck by the sweet-ness of the chicken wings and the cashewson the rice ball, which seemed candied.The sweetness was tempered by one noo-dle dish I tried, the intense flavors of thebrisket mazemen with chile sofrito, con-trasting with the bright relief of a hard-boiled shoyu egg, over tonkatsu noodles.It’s the least soupy of the seven noodledishes on the menu. The dish introducednew flavors to my tongue, but was strange-ly comforting. It was as if Mom had madebrisket mazemen for me as a child. But Ican tell you with certainty, she didn’t.

Kawa Ni, 19 Bridge Square, Westport. ClosedMondays and Tuesdays. 203-557-8775.

Shared DishEileen Fischer& Lee Steele

LearningJapaneseSIDE-STEPPINGBARBECUED EEL FOR PEEKYTOE CRAB, GYOZA

Lee Steele / Staff photos

Shaved broccoli and miso, Benton's ham, ra-yu and honey at Kawa Ni in Westport.

A rice ball with pickled farm greens,pickled peanuts and cashews.

Pork gyoza with red cabbage tsukemono,salted peanuts and sesame.

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Sunday, September 27, 2015 | Connecticut Post | D5

Fashion

Iknew I shouldn’t wear my favoriteshirt to the makeover, because I knew itwould get its feelings hurt, which it

quickly did.“The first thing I’d do is give you a new

shirt,” said my makeover consultant, SarahButterfield, as if the old shirt weren’t in theroom. “This is much too big for you. It’scoming off your shoulders. It’s baggy ingeneral.” She was not appeased by its fes-tive blue and green stripes.

Butterfield is the man-dresser at Richardsof Greenwich. Richards is a store for peoplewho are serious about dress-ing. And at Richards Butter-field does what we’d all liketo be able to do, which is totell everyone what’s wrongwith what they have on,without risking a poke in theeye.

I met with Butterfieldbecause it was time for meto get a new look, sinceevery day is time for me toget a new look. I have pantsthat have outlived theirpockets. I have belts ontheir last buckle notch. Ihave shirts that have goneout of style, come back inand gone back out.

Butterfield could tell thatmy favorite shirt hadspanned two centuries, andshe didn’t much care howdashing it had been when too-big was instyle. She did, however, compliment me forwearing my flat-front pants instead of thepleated ones whose feelings I had wiselyprotected.

She understood me. She recognized thatthere was just so far I could travel from ablue, green or blue-and-green-stripe top,paired with black khakis. “I can dress you,”she said, “but if you’re not comfortable in it,you’re never going to wear it.” She got thatright. Just ask my Qiana shirts.

In the time it took me to vogue for my“before” photograph, Butterfield laid outan entire wardrobe for me on a displaytable. The clothes were my sizes, which Ihad not told her and which she had notasked. And they were things I could wearwithout feeling like knocking on neigh-bors’ doors for candy.

Richards is a world populated by nameslike Ermenegildo Zegna. There’s no prob-lem here finding a shirt for $500 or a suitfor $5,000. I never paid prices like that formy clothes, not that I’d remember. But Iwanted a high-class makeover whether Icould afford it or not.

My first look combined gray wool pants,which I never would have considered, ablue-check shirt, which I also never wouldhave considered, and a baby-blue half-zipwool sweater, which I certainly neverwould have considered. Everything feltpeculiar, probably because it fit.

Yet somehow the clothes made me over.All at once I was natty. Butterfield seemedto be seeing me for the first time, except ina good way. I was still in blue, but now itwasn’t coming off my shoulders. Peoplesmiled as if to tell me they were waiting forthe three-way mirror.

So I changed into blue wool pants, aplum-and-teal-check shirt and a plumhalf-zip sweater. I felt like a Thanksgivingcenterpiece. But I like hiding behind darkcolors, and I especially liked the shoes,which were Salvatore Ferragamo loafersthat felt like they were socks.

For an evening out, Butterfield put meback in gray pants, added a gray-and-blue-stripe shirt and a blue windowpane sportscoat. The coat was marked $2,295, but asButterfield pointed out it was a year-round

weight, which meant Icould wear it for $191.25 amonth.

Butterfield also pickedout a navy suit with atextured white shirt anda burgundy tie withstripes of navy and lightblue. “The suit is aframe,” she explained.“Your personality willcome in with the shirtsand the ties. I happen tolove red. Red is power. Idon’t necessarily see youin red.”

Nevertheless, in mynew clothes I felt like Ihad power. Or at leastmore power than a guy ina baggy-in-general shirt.But for the whole ward-robe, I’d have had to lay

out $10,500, plus $6,865 more if I wanted areally neat Brunello Cucinelli bomber jacket.

I asked Butterfield what to do, brieflyimagining she’d say, “It’s all yours!” Insteadshe said, “Start with one thing you love.You really loved the Ferragamo loafers, sostart with them.” Starting with them wouldrun $480, which could buy the first shirtand sweater combined.

There was irony in Butterfield’s sugges-tion, since I was assigned to get a make-over directly after the editors got a look atme in my favorite shoes. But not enoughirony, I guessed, for them to buy me myFerragamos. Besides, I had dressed forfailure, and it had paid off.

So I draped myself in my favorite shirt,which now felt like a laundry sack, and leftto ponder just how much I should invest ina new me.

I would daydream about silky Italianleather nuzzling my feet. And I woulddaydream about Butterfield’s silky summa-tion: “I loved you in the baby-blue.”

Mitch Broder is the author of two books, includinghis latest, “New York’s One-Food Wonders.”

Mike Ross / For Hearst Connecticut Media

The author ups his game at Richards of Greenwich, where some subtle changes went a long way. Below, a professional shopper picks out some looks for autumn.

OH, THOSE FERRAGAMO LOAFERS

Clothes make the man

IN MY NEW CLOTHES I FELT LIKE I HAD POWER. OR AT LEAST MORE POWER THAN

A GUY IN A BAGGY-IN-GENERAL SHIRT.

By Mitch Broder

The author reluctantlyagreed to change his look.

D6 | Connecticut Post | Sunday, September 27, 2015

Home

“People want furniture that makes theirspace look bigger. I work to make surethat every piece works visually and withfunctionality. I want people to love theirspaces,” Harris said.

After her own frustrating search forsmaller-scaled furniture, Harris and herhusband Dean launched an online custom-furniture retail company, The Itsy BitsyRitzy Shop, in Norwalk in 2012. Their lineis made in America at various locations,including the former Singer Sewing Ma-chine Plant in Bridgeport. Each piece isthought out for its style and functionality— a tufted ottoman can be used as a stor-age bin, coffee table and extra seating,while a sleeper chair takes the place of abulky sofa bed. All the furniture is madeto squeeze through a 36-inch door frame,so there is no need to chop up a couch orscratch a dresser.

At Design Within Reach in Stamford, amodern, midcentury look runs throughthe store’s collections. The Bilsby sofasand chairs have detachable arms andbacks to get through narrow hallways andstaircases. The Sapien Bookcase, with its14-inch footprint, can be tucked just aboutanywhere. A 3-D planner on the DWRwebsite allows users to test out arrange-ments before committing to a design.

But now the big question — after mov-ing in, does the smaller space feel likehome to the Bangsers?

Sure, there are familiar pieces, such as thedining room table, which has survived a fireand a pre-teen girls’ painting party, the an-tique couch and, in the loft, the student deskand a second couch that helps make the spacefeel like home. “It’s cozy, a nice little getaway,”Jennifer Bangser said of the loft. But somenew pieces may eventually replace the familiarfavorites. “As we get more settled, we’ll figureout what our real needs are and get a sense ofwhat we need for the space.”

chennesy@hearstmediact.com;Twitter: @xtinahennessy

It was a week before move-in day whenJennifer Bangser, her husband and herteenaged daughter would see whether

their measurements and planning wouldtranslate to a rented living space that wasclean, simple and cozy, instead of busy,cluttered and cramped. Downsizing from afour-bedroom home in the suburbs to oneof the airy apartment complexes recentlybuilt in Norwalk, she knew it was going tobe a challenge.

“The sofa is the key thing.” Bangser wasthinking about the 6-foot long, 1925 antiquecouch that had once been her grandmoth-er’s.

Since she was working with about 1,600square feet, about half the square footageshe once had, Bangser, who is in her 50s,already had pared down her possessions —her great-grandmother’s Victorian wood bedwas headed to storage, along with an an-tique desk, a family heirloom. “A studentdesk is going to become the family desk, in away. You start to look at your children’sfurniture in a different way when you haveto downsize. You think, ‘What a lovely piecethat is.’ ”

Bangser’s dilemma isn’t unique. In thelast five years across lower Fairfield Coun-ty, about 6,400 apartment units have beenbuilt, with about 1,000 more on the way,according to CoStar Group Inc., a Wash-ington, D.C.-based commercial real estateresearch and analysis information firm. InStamford alone, projects in the pipelineare expected to bring about 800 units tothe downtown. Some newer developmentsinclude The Waypointe in Norwalk andAbbey Woods in Danbury, the latter devel-oped by Stamford-based Building andLand Technology, which has dotted Stam-ford’s skyline with new residential towersduring the past several years.

Ranging from 580-square-foot studios tothree-bedroom units close to 2,000 squarefeet, these units attract empty-nesters,young couples and families who can affordthe high-end construction and amenitiesmany offer.

For these new urban spaces, said LynnHoffman, a Stamford-based interior de-signer, clients want scaled-down pieceswith simple lines that are relatively easy tomove. There are more options now, sincefurniture design is becoming more con-temporary and modern. “It is still tradi-tional furniture ... but we are not as fuddy-duddy as we used to be,” she said.

Oversized, overstuffed pieces that werede rigueur for furnishing the once ubiqui-tous McMansions only make today’sscaled-down homes feel smaller, said inte-rior designer Marcia Harris, who is work-ing on a New York City hotel projectwhere rooms are as little as 80 square feet.

Christopher Brown/For Hearst Connecticut Media

Boomers and Millennials have a dilemma in common: Finding stylish furniture that fits

Living small

Contributed photos

In this 750-square-foot apartment in New York, Norwalk’s Itsy Bitsy Ritzy furniture line includes the kitchen table, above, whichproportionately matches the counter height with the tall ceilings. Above that, a bed with drawers below ensures no space is wasted.

By Christina Hennessy

Sunday, September 27, 2015 | Connecticut Post | D7

Food & Drink

So a guy walks intoBailey’s Backyard inRidgefield looking for

the bar because he’s thereto talk about bourbon,which happens to be one ofBailey’s signature libations.

Except the joke’s on himbecause there is no bar, justtwo cozy dining rooms, andthe bourbons are not onlykept out of sight, they arenot familiar brands likeMaker’s Mark or Jim Beam.

There isn’t a bartendereither, but luckily there is abeverage manager, JessicaSchroeder, who brings outan amber array of the corn-based whiskeys being new-ly discovered at Bailey’sand elsewhere.

There’s Woodford Re-serve and Blanton’s, whichare predictably from Ken-tucky, bourbon’s traditionalbirthplace. But there’s alsoHudson’s Baby Bourbonfrom the Tuthilltown Distil-lery not too far away inGardiner, N.Y., and Berk-shire bourbon from theBerkshire Mountain Distil-lery in Sheffield, Mass.

Schroeder pulls the stop-per from the Hudson’sbottle, which at a squat 375milliliters has half the vol-ume of the ordinary whis-key bottle. She takes aquick sniff.

“Some people compare itto saddle leather,” Schroed-er says of the sweet smell,adding that the Hudson’sdistillery is the first to openin New York State since therepeal of Prohibition. Onher iPad, she plays a videothat shows how the distil-lery booms heavy rap mu-sic from loud speakers toagitate the bourbon as itages in oak barrels.

Next up is Blanton’s, apersonal favorite with whatSchroeder discerns as afruity and oaky taste. TheBlanton’s bottle is octagonaland is further distinguishedby its stopper that bears thefigurine of a jockey atop a

racehorse. More significantis the handwritten labelbearing the date the bottlewas filled, the identity ofthe warehouse where it wasaged and the barrel it wasdrawn from.

Such particularity is thedistilled explanation of whybourbon has become thespirit of the moment, andwhy it goes down well at aplace like Bailey’s, wherethe dining menu focuses onlocally grown food.

“It’s farm-to-table friend-ly,” Schroeder says, com-paring the bourbon burst tothat of craft-beers (whichBailey’s also features).“These are niche productsthat are personally paidattention to. Every barrelhas a story behind it.”

This is almost literallytrue. The Hudson’s BabyBourbon distiller says it ismade from a strain of local-ly grown, heritage corn.And part of Blanton’s storyis that the long-ago epony-mous owner decided thebest bourbon came frombarrels stored in the centerof Warehouse H, whichhappened to have beenbuilt in a rush after Prohi-bition.

Blanton deduced that thewarehouse’s metal wallsallowed greater variationsin temperature that in turnpromoted blending of thebourbon with the charcoalinterior of its host barrel.(Warehouse H thus was anaccidental forerunner to theHudson distillery’s “sonicmaturation.”) Warehouseand barrel, though, do nottell the whole story of bour-bon’s surge. A 2014 articlein Atlantic magazine re-ported the number of craftdistilleries in the U.S. hadincreased almost ten-foldover the previous decade tomore than 600, tapping intoGen-Xers’ and Millennials’preference for the “local”and “authentic.”

Articles in various tradepublications cite comple-mentary factors, like the

earlier popularity of single-malt scotch, the emergenceof the “casual dining” and“craft cocktail cultures.”Then there are resonatingimages from such televisionseries as “Mad Men,” wherethe drinks, if not the drink-ing, are beautifully filmed.Blanton’s website boastscameo appearances on“House of Cards” and“Gone Girl.”

At Bailey’s, a drink calledthe Black Beauty was one ofthe featured cocktails. Itsbase was Woodford Re-serve bourbon mixed withruby port, orange bittersand black cherry. Schroedermixed one and served it in acylindrical glass with asingle extra-large ice cube.The large cube cools thedrink without diluting it,she said, adding that cock-tails often are the way pa-trons discover bourbon.

Bailey’s stocks only a halfdozen craft bourbons (alongwith other kinds of craftwhiskeys), a fraction of thevariety to be found at eater-ies like Walrus + Carpenterin the Bridgeport’s BlackRock section that havesecondary identities as“bourbon bars.”

Its drink menu lists morethan two dozen craft bour-bons and a slightly smallernumber of craft ryes, singlemalt whiskeys, vodkas andgins. Single-shot bourbonprices range from $10 for a10-year-old Bulleit Frontierto $46 for a 23-year-old,single-barrel Elijah Craig.

Vanessa Young, the bar-tender on duty one after-noon, pours a shot of one ofWalrus + Carpenter’s newlyadded bourbons, BuffaloTrace, into a glass over twolarge ice cubes. Two quicksips confirms that part ofbourbon’s appeal is that it issmoother and sweeter thanother whiskeys.

Buffalo Trace doesn’tcome from a single barrel.But its label does boast itcomes from the similarlynamed distillery located atone of Kentucky’s oldestactive distilling sites, wherethe combination of lime-stone-cleansed water andgrains grown in rich riversoil give the whiskey itsspecial flavor.

Young volunteers to poura finger of Buffalo Trace,straight, for herself.

“You want to smell itfirst,” she says, lifting theglass to her nose. “I defi-nitely get some caramelright off the bat.”

She takes a sip. “It’s a littlesmoky. You get a little bit ofvanilla.” Then she takes asecond sniff, detecting acomplex aroma she de-scribes as floral and whatelse? After a pause, she set-tles on something like sweetcurd and looks as thoughshe surprised herself.

Young seconds Schroed-er’s analysis: saying that theappetite for craft bourbonssprings from the sameplace as that for micro-brewed beers or even winesand coffees. But amongwhiskeys, bourbon has anespecially strong appealbecause of its frontier heri-tage, she says. It is thewhiskey of pioneers.

“It kind of goes hand-in-hand with supporting local,supporting sustainabilityand supporting America,”Young says.

Joel Lang is anaward-winning Connecticutjournalist.

Christopher Setter / For Hearst Connecticut Media

Bailey's Backyard in Ridgefield offers artisanal bourbons and creative cocktails that bring out the whiskey’s best qualities.

Spirit of the momentTapping into growingpreference for ‘local’ and‘authentic,’ small-batchbourbons proliferate

Bailey's Backyard’s cocktail menu includes the Mark Twain, left, with house-infusedvanilla bourbon, cinnamon simple syrup, maple syrup and black walnut bitters; theBlack Beauty, with ruby port, Woodford Reserve, orange bitters and black cherry; andthe Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, which includes chai tea and vanilla bourbon. Below, onthe porch at Bailey’s in Ridgefield.

By Joel Lang

D8 | Connecticut Post | Sunday, September 27, 2015

Arts

Hidden away in astudio on thegritty East Side ofBridgeport is an

unlikely intersection of artand fashion.

A visit to Emily Larned’sindustrial workspace in-volves driving down somemean streets, but after youwalk up three flights in theformer American Fabricsfactory to her studio, youstep into a place whereeveryday objects are seen ina fresh light.

The old factorythat has beenrepurposed into ahaven for artistsseems like theperfect spot for awoman who be-lieves we shouldtry to find newuses for oldthings before wetoss them away.

"Saving. Econo-mizing. Reusing.Multipurposes forthings. I’ve al-ways been interested inthat," Larned said of sal-vaging the archaic printingpresses and antique typefonts with which she cre-ates beautiful handmade,limited-edition books.

The artist likes to thinkher way out of challenges ofall kinds without buyingnew tools or admitting shemight have made a mistakewith a too-hasty purchase.

Which brings us to oneof Larned’s most interestingand most widely displayedprojects, a book she madeshowing herself modeling54 different uses for onelarge white T-shirt.

"I’ve always been in-terested in clothing andpersonal style. You’ll findme at thrift stores and es-tate sales," she said.

On one of those thriftshop rambles, Larnedgrabbed a dress she knewmight be the wrong size.

"The dress was too big, butI saw that I could use it," the

artist said of cinch-ing and styling thepiece in a way theoriginal wearernever could haveimagined.

Larned beganthinking aboutwhat she might beable to do with aclassic piece ofclothing that is asAmerican as applepie — the simplewhite T-shirt. Af-fordable and never

out of fashion, the plain cottongarment has always been aschic as any high-fashion cre-ation from Paris or Milan, Italy.

"I wanted to see howmany different ways a T-shirt could be used,"Larned said of venturing toJimmy’s clothing store indowntown Bridgeport tobuy an item she wouldtransform into art.

"When you start thinking

about it, it’s amazing whatyou can do. Wear it veryloose and it’s hip-hop. Wearit tight, with a pack of ciga-rettes rolled up in the sleeve,and you’ve got that classic1950s look," she said.

As part of the artisticexperiment, Larned decid-ed to set strict parameterson what she could do withthe T-shirt.

No color. No silk screen-ing. No felt letters. Justwhatever changes could bemade with basic office sup-plies (mostly tape).

The artist went into astudio with a photographerfriend and she startedmessing around with vari-ous permutations of the tee.

"It’s always fun to collab-orate and this was like atongue-in-cheek fashionshoot. I went into the stu-dio with ideas for five (vari-ations), but the energy wasthere that made me keep ontrying new versions."

By the end of the day,Larned had assembled alookbook of 60 differentways to wear a T-shirt.

The Flashdance.The Gladiator.And the artist’s personal

favorite — The Martini — azany style that involveswearing the shirt upsidedown with the sleeves usedas pockets.

"We decided to cut itdown to 54 pictures for thebook. I thought that had agood ring to it, stirring upthoughts of Studio 54," she

said, grinning.A limited edition of the

T-shirt book has sold well insuch edgy and sophisticatedNew York City shops asPrinted Matter in Chelseaand at Booklyn in Brooklyn.

Parsons the New Schoolfor Design in Lower Man-hattan has the T-shirt man-ifesto in its permanentcollection.

When I asked Larnedwhat’s next on her agenda,she smiled and said, "Oh, mygosh," before leading me on atour of an awesome array ofworks in progress, most ofwhich involve refurbishingold things for new viewers.

The factory studio seemslike a slice of Brooklyn circa2000, which is where Larnedand her artist husband livedbefore studies at Yale and ateaching position at the Uni-versity of Bridgeport broughtthem to the Park City’s EastSide in 2005.

"Obviously, there arethings I miss about NewYork — the hustle and thebustle — but it’s less dis-tracting here. You need todevote huge head space tothe financial challenges ofNew York because it is soexpensive to live there. Itboils down to: Is the mostimportant thing to makemoney so you can staythere, or do you find anoth-er place where you canafford to make art?"

jmeyers@hearstmediact.com; Twitter: @joesview

XXLETC.

Emily Larned’s lookbook explores theendless possibilities of an oversized T-shirtand some office supplies. What is the artist

and graphics instructor trying to tell us?

By Joe Meyers

“WHENYOU STARTTHINKINGABOUT IT,

IT’SAMAZING

WHAT YOUCAN DO.”

Contributed photos

Larned’s endless variations on the plain, white T-shirtare offbeat and imaginative.

Sunday, September 27, 2015 | Connecticut Post | D9

For most of his two-year reign as World Chess Champion, Mag-nus Carlsen has been King Kong — towering above all others, out of reach.

But, almost overnight, he has been brought back to earth.

Two months ago, he failed dis-mally in an elite tournament in his native Norway — losing three games and finishing near the bottom of the field.

More recently, he tied for sec-ond with four others in another fiercely competitive tournament in St. Louis. Again, he did not dis-play his customary superiority.

Magnus, it seems, has been brought back down to earth where he is being vigorously pur-sued by a pack of gifted young players attempting to close the existing but narrowing gap.

The list is extensive: Hikaru Nakamura, Fabiano Caruana, Anish Giri, Liren Ling, Li Chao, Wesley So, Sergei Karjakin and Yi Wei.

All of them are near him in years, some even younger. The advantage of precocious youth is no longer exclusively his.

The situation is a product of the Computer Age. Chess is inex-pensive and easily available. New talent abounds — constantly and even exponentially increasing.

But Carlsen’s intuitive grasp of the game and competitive tough-ness are formidable obstacles for any would-be successor.

Below is a win by Gadir Guseinov against Maxim Matla-kov from the FIDE World Cup in Baku, Azerbaijan.

My friend the English pro-fessor says that if college students had compiled the Bible, God wouldn’t have cre-ated the world in seven days. He would have waited until right before it was due and pulled an all-nighter.

“Not only that,” the prof told me, “they would have the Tower of Babel blamed for the undergraduate lan-guage requirement.”

Sometimes it’s better to put things off. At today’s four spades, South won the first heart with the king and took the A-K of trumps. When West discarded, declarer cashed the A-Q of hearts to discard a diamond from dummy and then led the jack of clubs.

East took his ace, cashed his high queen of trumps and led a diamond. West won, but South ruffed the next diamond in dummy and threw his last diamond and last heart on the K-Q of clubs. Making four.

East misdefended. By tak-ing the ace of clubs, he set up two winners in dummy. If instead he lets the jack of clubs win, the best South can do is lead his last heart, planning to pitch dummy’s last diamond if West follows. But as the cards lie, East can get in to cash his queen of trumps and then lead a dia-mond, forcing out dummy’s last trump. South will go down one.

South is always safe if he puts off drawing trumps. He can cash the ace but should next take the A-Q of hearts to pitch a diamond from dummy.

South then leads the jack of clubs. If East ducks, South still can’t afford to cash the king of trumps. He leads a red card, setting up a cross-ruff, and is sure of 10 tricks against any defense.

horoscope HOLIDAY MATHIS

Last week’s Sudoku

chess SHELBY LYMAN

bridge FRANK STEWART

SOLVE-IT

Last week’s Crossword

Beginner’s Corner

1. e4 c52. Nf3 e63. Nc3 a64. d4 cxd45. Nxd4 b56. Bd3 Qb67. Nf3 Nc68. O-O Qb89. Re1 Bb710. Bg5 Bd611. Qd2 h612. Bh4 N(g)e713. Bg3 Ng614. a4 b415. Nd5 exd5

16. exd5ch N(c)e717. Bxg6 fxg618. Qd4 Rg819. Ne5 Qa720. Qxa7 Rxa721. Nc6 Bxg322. Rxe7ch Kf823. Rxd7 Black resigns

Guseinov.................Matlakov

TODAY’S BIRTHDAY (Sept. 27): The role you play in your immediate circle has provided you with a strong identity, though it’s not the entirety of YOU. Your lucky numbers are: 4, 30, 22, 24 and 15.

ARIES (March 21-April 19): You’ll set a firm intention. What you intend may not always be the way it turns out, but things will always turn out differently because of your intention.

TAURUS (April 20-May 20): The technology that’s supposed to be helping you might actually be causing you anxiety. The best connections will be the ones you make in person. There is no substitute for supportive human contact.

GEMINI (May 21-June 21): Because it comes so easily to you to be warm with others, you may underestimate the value of your smile. It is a value that will tip the scales in today’s situation.

CANCER (June 22-July 22): It won’t serve you to count on popular support. Anyway, you’re more likely to get the support just as soon as they sense you don’t need it.

LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): There are many opportunities in danger of being lost to the mind’s clever rumination trap. There’s a time for all that, and this isn’t it.

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): While looking for signs of an indifferent universe, you’ll find plenty of evidence. While

dreaming that the fates favor you, you’ll get evidence of that, too.

LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 23): Wherever you go, you want to be there fully. Of course, this is harder when you get roped into going places you had no intention or desire to see in the first place.

SCORPIO (Oct. 24-Nov. 21): For some, anger is an addiction. This type tends to either actively seek or unwittingly attract the circumstances that will facilitate the angry rush and the release that comes with it.

SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): Most crimes are mistakes. Most mistakes are not crimes. The tendency today is to make too big of a

deal over the small infractions. Be the exception.

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Today you’re wondering how far you should pursue justice. Confucius suggested that before you embark on a journey of revenge, you dig two graves.

AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Some people have trouble matching their tone to the level of seriousness of what’s being discussed or executed. You’ll help the ones struggling to get it right.

PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): Just because you don’t know the answer to the question doesn’t mean you don’t know the answer to the question behind the question.

Hint: Better than Nxd8chSolution: 1. Ne5ch! Kf8 (or ... Kh8) 2. Ng6 mate!

Better to delay

sudoku MICHAEL MEPHAM

take a break

D10 | Connecticut Post | Sunday, September 27, 2015

London, 1998

For as long as I can remember, I have always hadthe feeling of not quite fitting in, not being thesame as everyone else.

I’m certain that is why I became a writer.Even as a toddler, at nursery school, juniorschool, I was friendly with everyone, with-out ever being part of the group. Standing onthe outside, watching. Always watching. Inoticed everything: how a sideways glancewith narrowed eyes could say so much morethan words ever could; how a whisper be-hind a delicate hand had the ability to de-stroy you for the week; how an outstretchedhand from the right girl, at the right time,would see your heart soar for hours, some-times days.

I knew I was different. The older I grew,the more that difference felt like inadequacy;I wasn’t pretty enough, or thin enough, orsimply enough. I couldn’t have put words toit, certainly not when I was very young,other than looking at those tiny, perfect,popular girls and wanting, so desperately, tobe on the inside, to be the girl that was al-ways picked first for sports teams, ratherthan the one left until last.

When adolescence hit, I became thefriend the boys all wanted to talk to, to con-fide in, to find out how they could possiblymake my best friend, Olivia, interested inthem.

I was such a good friend, even though Ifell head over heels for every last one ofthem. Adam Barrett afforded me twomonths’ worth of daydreams about how hewould realize, as we were sitting on the floorin my bedroom, the Police playing on myrecord player in the background, that Oliviawas not the answer to his dreams after all;he would suddenly notice the silkiness ofmy hair (always far silkier in my day-dreams), the green of my eyes, the fullness ofmy mouth, as he woke up to the fact that Iwas so spectacularly beautiful (which Iwasn’t), how had he not noticed that before?

After Adam Barrett it was Danny Curran,then Rob Palliser, and of course, Ian Owens.None of my daydreams came true, and atfourteen I finally discovered a great way of

easing the pain of all those unfulfilleddreams, those unfulfilled longings, thosemisplaced hopes.

Gary Scott was having a party at hishouse. It was a sleepover, the boys sleepingon one side of the giant loft, the girls on theother. Everyone was ridiculously excited,this being the first mixed sleepover. Lookingback, I can’t quite believe the parents al-lowed it, given the raging hormones of four-teen- and fifteen-year-old teenagers, but Isuppose they thought we were good kids, orthat they had it under control.

The parents were there, of course. Theywere having a small gathering of their own;the laughter of the grown-ups and the clink-ing of their glasses made its way over to us,at the back of the garden with a record play-er and a trestle table stocked with popcorn,plastic cups, and lemonade.

Ian Owens was my crush at the time. Hehad become my very good friend, naturally,in a bid to get close to Olivia, who was, onthat night, standing under the tree with PaulJohnson, her head cocked to one side, hersheaf of newly highlighted blond hair hang-ing like a curtain of gold over her rightshoulder, looking up at Paul with thosespectacular blue eyes. Everyone in thatgarden knew it was only a matter of timebefore he kissed her.

Ian was devastated. I was sitting on thegrass talking to him quietly, reassuring him,praying that I might be second choice, pray-ing that he might lean his head toward mine,might brush my lips gently with his, spendthe rest of the night holding me tightly in hisarms.

“I took this,” he said, gesturing to his side,where a bottle of vodka was nestling underhis thigh.

“What? What do you mean, you took it?From where?”

“I found it in the garage. Don’t worry,there’s tons more. No one will notice. Wantto?” He nodded his head in the shade of the

trees, to a private corner where we wouldn’tbe seen.

Of course I wanted to. I would have doneanything to keep Ian Owens by my side alittle longer, to give him more time to changehis mind about Olivia and fall in love withme.

I got up, brushing the pine needles frommy jeans, aware that there was a damp patchfrom the grass. I was in my new 501s. Oliviaand I bought them together and went backto her house to shrink them in the bath.Hers were tiny, and looked amazing whenwe were done, drainpiping down her legs.Mine flapped around my ankles like sails inthe wind. I had a small waist but great bigthighs, so I had to get a big size to fit, whichmeant they had to be clinched in at the waistwith a tight belt and were huge all the waydown.

I never looked the way I wanted to look inclothes. I had a new plaid shirt from Cam-den Market that I really liked, and hadsmudged black kohl underneath my eyes.Peering from beneath my new fringe — I hadcut it two days ago — my eyes looked smokyand sultry, the green sparkling through thekohl. I liked the way I looked, which wasn’tsomething that happened often.

Maybe tonight was going to be a first forme. Maybe Ian would like the way I lookedtoo.

I followed him into the small copse oftrees at the end of the garden, as he broughtthe bottle out and took the first swig, gri-macing as he sputtered, then spat it all out.

“Christ, that’s disgusting.” He passed the

bottle to me.Of course I didn’t want to do it. Watching

the look on his face, how could I ever havewanted to taste something so vile, but howcould I back down? I gingerly took the bot-tle, swigged it back, felt the burning goingdown my throat, then swigged it back twicemore.

“Wow!” Impressed, he took the bottleback, this time managing to swallow.

Within minutes, I felt like a differentperson. Gone was the shy, awkward, un-gainly adolescent, and in her place a sexysiren. Suddenly the curves I had alwayshated so much became sexiness personified,my new fringe a sultry curtain from behindwhich I could peer with bedroom eyes.

The warmth in my body spread out to myfingers and toes, a delicious tingling as I lostmy inhibitions and flirted with Ian, stunnedthat he responded, that we moved fromawkwardly standing next to each other tolying on the ground, heads resting on ourelbows, my hair dropped over one shoulderin what I hoped was a pretty good imitationof Olivia, both of us giggling as we passedthe bottle back and forth.

“You’re really pretty,” he said suddenly,the smile sliding off his face, the bottle slid-ing to the ground as he leaned his head for-ward, his lips inching closer to mine, hiseyes starting to close, my own eyes closing intandem. And there we were, kissing, as myheart threatened to explode.

It was everything I had dreamed of, hishands snaking through my hair, my ownwrapped around his back, unable to believeI had been given license to touch this boy Ihad loved for so long, license to hold him, toslip my tongue in his mouth, listen to himsigh with pleasure. He pushed me onto myback, lay on top of me, kissing my neck as Ilooked at the stars, knowing that if I were todie tonight, I would finally die happy. Iwould have done anything in my power tomake that moment last all night.

We heard a noise, someone coming, andhe jumped off me as if stung by an electricshock, refusing to even look at me, pretend-ing we had just been out there drinking,nothing more. The disappointment was likea dagger, which twisted and turned as theevening progressed and he didn’t come nearme again.

What could I do other than pretend I washaving a great time, and how could I nothave a great time with my new best friend,vodka, when vodka had made me feel sogood? Maybe vodka would take away thissearing pain, make me feel beautiful again.

Copyright © 2015 by Jane Green, author of 17novels including 16 New York Times best-sellers

Summer SecretsAN EXCERPT FROM THE NEW NOVEL BY WESTPORT WRITER JANE GREEN

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