Tag: 250130

Stones’ fab four

Paying tribute to a hot streak of albums

By Michael Witthaus

[email protected]

Beginning with Beggars Banquet in 1968, the Rolling Stones made four records in a row that are all among the greatest to come from the classic rock era — and the last one, 1972’s Exile on Main Street, was a double album. The other two were, of course, 1969’s Let It Bleed and Sticky Fingers, released in 1971.

Here’s the thing, though. It was an iconic streak, but the band’s true achievement was surviving it. Most of them, anyway; co-founder Brian Jones barely made it through the first two LPs before his death. Arrests, bad business deals, a disastrous free concert and a midnight run from England to France all happened, while the music just got better.

A show on Feb. 1 at Pembroke City Limits will feature four songs from each album, along with a look at the times that produced them. A house band led by John Zevos of Lichen will recreate “Sympathy for the Devil,” “Midnight Rambler,” “Dead Flowers,” “Tumbling Dice” and a dozen others.

“I was peeling through some of the Stones’ essential works of the late ’60s and ’70s and I just could not get past these four records,” PCL owner Rob Azevedo, who organized the show, said recently. “Mick’s potent lyrics, Keith’s blazing riffs and the magnitude of these incredible creations…. I thought, we need to pay tribute to these songs, and soon!”

Hosting and providing historical context for the event will be me, Michael Witthaus. I watched a lot of it unfold as a teenager in Northern California, like the horrific Altamont show that summarily ended the ’60s idealism once rising at Woodstock. When the Stones returned to San Francisco in 1972 and played Winterland, I was there.

Since then, I’ve learned a lot more from books and podcasts about the decade’s music. I’ll talk about living in that era, and tell stories about the Greatest Rock & Roll Band in the World, like the one about how the organ player on Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone” later joined The Stones and helped shape the opening bars of “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.”

A seasoned group of Stones-loving musicians is promised, which will include a horn section for a few songs consisting of sax players Brian Booth, Dani Sven and Jason Reichelson, along with John Spring on trumpet. Zevos wrote the horn charts, something he’s done for Azevedo-organized tribute shows in the past. The band, he said in an email interview, consists of “people I’ve played with a lot over the years that I knew would be great playing Stones tunes.”

On keyboards and singing is his wife Diane Zevos. She’s also a member of Lichen, a band nearly as durable as the Stones, having marked 43 years together last August. “Di loves rock ’n’ roll, and adds so much to any band she plays in,” Zevos said. “We love playing together.”

Playing guitar and vocals is Wayne Hughes, a longtime collaborator of Zevos’. “We play together all the time in various situations, and he knows more about the Stones than anyone I know,” he explained. “As soon as Rob asked me to do this I said to myself, ‘I have to get Wayne,’ and he was eager to jump in.

Steve Forgione, though best known for his guitar work in local band Who Knows What, will move to drums for the show. “He grew up drumming in drum corps, and he is also a fantastic drummer,” Zevos said, adding, “Steve knows this material really well and I think because he is a guitar player he is a very musical drummer.”

On bass and vocals is a newer friend of Zevos, Peter Borden. “I met Peter while playing with him in another band and we found that we have the same taste in music,” he said. ‘Even more than that, we hit it off musically. When I found out he was into the Stones, he seemed like the logical choice, and it is working out really well.”

Zevos will handle the “Keef” parts on guitar. “A lot of them are in the open tunings that Keith Richards uses,” he said. “You can play all of the songs in standard tuning, but to get the same sound as Keith, on some songs you need to use the tunings. I like it, it’s really fun. I’ll need to bring four guitars.”

Rolling Stones Tribute Show

When: Saturday, Feb. 1, 2 p.m.
Where: Pembroke City Limits, 134 Main St., Suncook
More: pembrokecitylimits.com

Featured Photo: Rolling Stones, 1969 (Courtesy Photo).

The Music Roundup 25/01/30

By Michael Witthaus

[email protected]

• New Yorkers: Nosaj and Haight Keech’s new duo Wave Generators hit town in support of their latest LP, After the End. Released last year, the 11-track effort has elements of the rap rock that fueled New Kingdom, Nosaj’s former group, with the growling “New North” harkening back to ’90s era Iggy Pop. Also appearing are area favorites Cody Pope and Byron G., along with Nahreally. Thursday, Jan. 30, 8 p.m., Zo’s Place, 235 Main St., Nashua, wavegenerators.bandcamp.com.

• Family sound: Offering gorgeous close harmonies and delicate instrumentation, Golden Oak is fronted by the sibling duo of Zak and Lena Kendall. One writer described the mood of their unique music as “energetic intimacy.” Their most recent album, Room to Grow, explores the physical and spiritual effects of the climate crisis. Liz Simmons, known for her work with trio Low Lily, opens the show. Friday, Jan. 31, 8 p.m., BNH Stage, 16 S. Main St., Concord, $31 at ccanh.com.

• Just ducky: After enough customers told her she was the best thing about Boston’s Duck Boat Tours, Jody Sloane went from delivering sit-down jokes while driving an amphibious vehicle to standup comedy. A regular favorite at the Doubletree Hotel showcase room, she’ll headline a weekend show. Saturday, Feb. 1, 8 p.m., Headliners Comedy Club, 700 Elm St., Manchester, $20 at eventbrite.com

• New romantic: Enjoy a Sunday afternoon sans football with highbrow melodies from Anthony Nunziata. In his Bocelli and Beyond show, the singer mixes operatic gems such as “O Sole Mio” and “Ave Maria” with pop hits like “When I Fall In Love” and originals one critic wrote have the “songwriting passion of a young Billy Joel combined with the soulfulness of Ed Sheeran.” Sunday, Feb. 2, 2 p.m., Rex Theatre, 23 Amherst St., Manchester, $39 and up at palacetheatre.org.

• Helping hands: The Woodman Winter Warm-Up event has music from Gnarly Darling, a rootsy band playing originals and covers of bands like Wilco, Black Pumas and John Prine. There will be drinks, food and a raffle with custom guitars from Miranda Lambert and Luke Bryan, all to benefit the Woodman Museum’s mission “to advance and develop passion for history, nature, and the arts.” Tuesday, Feb. 4, 5 p.m., Chapel + Main, 83 Main St., Dover, $75 at simpletix.com.

A Complete Unknown (R)

A Complete Unknown (R)

Timothée Chalamet is Bob Dylan in A Complete Unknown, a biography of Mr. Robert Zimmerman from his 1961 arrival in New York through 1965 when he “goes electric” at the Newport Folk Festival

This is an extremely straight-down-the-middle look at Dylan as he comes to New York City, befriends an ailing Woody Guthrie (Scoot McNairy) and buddy Pete Seeger (Edward Norton), becomes a big noise in the folk music community and then itches against the fame and the expectation that he stay in a strict musical lane. Along the way he meets and has relationships with (fictional) folk music fan/artist Sylvie (Elle Fanning) and with fellow folk singer Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro) — both women who the movie doesn’t do a lot for in terms of fleshing them out and making them more than reaction shots to whatever Dylan is doing. (Baez as a character feels particularly underserved.) Bob enjoys the money and to some degree the fame but he doesn’t like the getting-chased-out-of-bars side of fame or the part where people basically just want more “Blowin’ in the Wind” from him.

There are some nice elements to this movie that has the heavy lift of “introducing” Bob Dylan even though if you are inclined to see this movie you probably have your own built-in opinions of the man and his music. We get a bunch of standard biopic-rooted-in-time stuff, like Walter Cronkite delivering the news flash that JFK has been killed and snippets of the civil rights movement. And there is a fair amount of reaction to the news of the day that feels overly earnest. But I think generally the movie’s presentation of Dylan and his role in the capital S Sixties works — before he was Mr. Nobel Prize for Literature, Bob Dylan was just a talented, ambitious, annoying 20something trying to make it in the music business and also figure out his role in the culture, which was much more “mono-” than it is now. I also like the way the movie dips into the struggle between “old” folk and the “new” folk of the 1960s and how record companies were trying to bring in the kids but also keep whatever the old audience was with covers of classic folk songs. Folk can’t just be all Dust Bowl music, Sylvie argues, which helps inspire Dylan to write more about the Now (1960s). It’s a nice if stagey way to illustrate how today’s urgent issues become tomorrow’s nostalgia and helps to put us back there with Dylan in the 1960s headspace. At some point this tips into what basically becomes an argument about folk authenticity — “electric guitars!?!” — which is the same bummer to wade through as any argument about authenticity. And it feels like more of a stall in the movie’s energy than a lead-up to a dramatic climax. But overall I think the movie (and the Chalamet of it all) does do a good job of showing how Dylan’s lyrics and unpretty voice felt fresh for the time. B Available in theaters.

The Brutalist (R)

Adrian Brody gives a solid performance in The Brutalist, a movie with a three-hour-and-34-minute runtime.

There is a 15-minute intermission, which is either thoughtful of the movie or exhausting, depending on how you feel about what you’re watching and how much Coca-Cola Freestyle you drank in the movie’s first two-hour-ish chunk.

We meet Hungarian Lázló Tóth (Brody) as he arrives in America in 1947. Once a well-regarded architect of the Bauhaus school, Lázló survived the Holocaust with basically nothing, only finding out that his wife Erzébet (Felicity Jones) has also survived when he arrives in Philadelphia. There he meets up with long-ago-immigrated-to-America cousin Attila (Alessandro Nivola), whose last name is now Miller and who has a Catholic wife and has himself converted or something — adding a layer of tension to the relationship between the cousins. Lázló lives in a small back room at their furniture shop and is meant to help up the design game of the shop while working to get Erzébet and their niece Zsófia (Raffey Cassidy) out of what is now a Soviet-controlled country.

Lázló arrives in the U.S. with not just the psychological trauma of all he’s experienced but also a broken nose that has left him with severe pain — all of which leads him to eventually turn to heroin for relief. When we finally meet Erzébet and Zsófia, they also carry around the scars of their ordeal. Erzébet’s long starvation has left her unable to walk and she uses a wheelchair when she first arrives. She also takes pills for pain in her legs that, when it strikes, leaves her screaming. Zsófia, who we first see in the movie’s opening scenes being interrogated by the Soviets and who was a child when Lázló last saw her, has been so traumatized she doesn’t speak.

And then Lázló meets rich psychopath Harrison Van Buren Sr. (Guy Pearce) and his terrible son Harry Jr. (Joe Alwyn). Harry hires Lázló and Attila to turn his father’s messy study into a proper library for his fancy first editions. What Lázló creates is such a modernist piece of art that it eventually gets a feature in Life magazine, but Van Buren’s initial reaction is just to yell at everybody and refuse to pay. Eventually Van Buren realizes that he has stumbled on a genius and ensnares Lázló into building this ridiculous community center that will serve as a monument to Van Buren’s dead mother. It is immediately clear that Van Buren is very much a not-good guy but his lawyer, Michael (Peter Polycarpou), offers to help Lázló bring over his wife and niece and Van Buren offers Lázló a chance at regaining some of his past life as an architect, so Lázló begins the project that we see become an obsession for nearly a decade.

I realize it is deeply unsophisticated to complain about a well-made movie being too long — as though you’re admitting that your baby brain has been so TikTok broken it can’t hold complex thoughts. And, maybe, but also at some point the tonnage of a movie gets in the way of all the things a movie can accomplish. And The Brutalist — which really feels at least 40 minutes not just too long but too long without good reason — does attempt some interesting things. The production design and cinematography (both of which received Oscar nominations in this 10-nomination-receiving movie, including for Best Picture) are excellent, really putting the emotion on screen via colors and shapes and the way stone and shadow play such a big role in what we’re watching.

There is also a narrative that we’re used to in this kind of movie — where the refugee from the horrors of World War II comes to America and then just buckles down on the making of a new life and more or less assimilates — that this movie brilliantly argues with. In The Brutalist Lázló suffers in a way that feels more messy and genuine, can’t just close the door on the past and, as we eventually learn, works out some of his suffering through his architecture. And no amount of American hustle changes the fact that he was once a big deal with a full life of his own and is now at the mercy of the increasing awfulness of the racist, classist Van Buren to claw a little bit of that back. Likewise, Erzébet was a professional woman with a career as a foreign correspondent and isn’t here for everything’s-great-now housewife. Strong performances all around (even to a degree from Jones, I guess, saddled with another thin and thankless wife role) help break these people out of what you expect of them and give you something horrific but real. B In theaters.

Featured Image: A Complete Unknown (R)

Aflame, by Pico Iyer


Aflame, by Pico Iyer (Riverhead, 222 pages)

Pico Iyer is widely known as a travel writer, and he has traveled the globe for his books and essays, but some of his most meaningful experiences have been in a tiny room with a single bed, a chair and a desk and no distractions save an ocean view, nothing but “silence and emptiness and light.”

It is here, at a monastery in Big Sur, California, called the Hermitage, that Iyer has returned to repeatedly over the past three decades, once driving nearly four hours after his father died to sit in the stillness for two hours before driving back home again.

In Aflame, an unnerving title given the recent devastation in Los Angeles, Iyer writes lyrically and movingly about the gifts of solitude and quiet and why they matter, especially in a culture that seems determined to deprive us of them. And yes, he also writes about wildfires, inevitable because the setting is California, and death and suffering. But the title is a metaphor for burning in the heart, as well.

When Iyer tells one friend about his experiences at the New Camaldoli Hermitage, the friend replies, “You sound like you’re in love.” He answers, “Exalted, at the very least.”

The friend cautions him, “A love like that can’t last,” to which Iyer responds, “But it can leave you a different person, not always for the worst.”

This was an unlikely love story for Iyer, who is not a Christian or a member of any organized religious group and says he has an “aversion to all crosses and hymnals” because of having to attend chapel for 12 years in school.

But at the Hermitage he found transformative peace similar to what Admiral Richard Byrd found in the Antarctic, where the explorer made friends with stars and ice crystals, and the playwright Henry Miller, who happily lived alone in a rude cabin with no electricity or phone for three years.

But, as Iyer writes, “The silence of a monastery is not like that of a deep forest or mountaintop; it’s active and thrumming, almost palpable.”

Although the website of the Big Sur hermitage is contemplation.com, the monks have work to do — when they are driven out by wildfires that threaten their home, they find similar jobs to do at the places where they evacuate.

Iyer himself is too much acquainted with fire: “I can still feel myself inside that oven, my mother’s cat panting and struggling to breathe in my lap. One minute we had been sitting in our family home, the next we were surrounded by walls of flame five stories high.”

That home was in Santa Barbara, and his mother was in Florida at the time, so Iyer had to call her to tell her that everything she owned was now ash. There are many such heartbreaking stories coming out of Los Angeles right now, but Iyer, having lived through such a fire and recovered, brings to the subject a stoic’s view: As painful as it was, the fire “did clear the way for many things,” he tells a friend. He recounts a Japanese poem:

My house burned down

I can now see better

The rising moon

True hermits are rare, and even those famous for time spent alone, like Henry David Thoreau, weren’t alone as people think. Even while living at Walden Pond, Thoreau visited his mother every Sunday, and “The title of his first talk at the Concord Lyceum was not ‘Solitude’ but ‘Society’,” Iyer writes. Being alone is not an end unto itself, but “the means to becoming a more useful member of society.”

But a little aloneness doesn’t cut it. As one monk tells Iyer, “You have to learn how to enjoy leisure. … But you can’t be leisurely for just half an hour. It’s only in the sixth half hour that things start developing inside you — and then you know you have another three hours to go.”

While not every day is bliss in stays that sometimes last for a month — there is rain, and there are rattlesnakes and occasional bouts of boredom — Iyer comes to understand that it is the learnings of silence, not the busy work of his career or any money in his bank account, that would be useful as his father came to the end of his life.
Still, a friend says to him, “I can’t believe you’re spending all this time with these old guys in hoods.” But those old guys in hoods are quite the sages. Once, Iyer walks in on one working in the kitchen, who says to him, “This bloody peeling of onions, it never stops!” Iyer assumes he is talking literally, but no: “It’s the inner onion I’m talking about. The invisible stuff!”

There is, as there always is, another fire, threatening the Hermitage. And then another.

“The sacred is not a sanctuary, I’m moved to remember; it’s a force field. In many ways a forest fire. You can try controlled burns or back burnings, you can walk towards the heat, but its power comes from the fact that it can’t begin to be controlled or anticipated.”

Aflame, released the week after the Santa Ana winds blew embers across the Pacific Palisades, is beauty amid those ashes, and those yet to come. A —Jennifer Graham

Featured Image: Aflame, by Pico Iyer

Album Reviews 25/01/30

J. Michael Graham, Stuck (self-released)

Debut six-song record from this Manchester, N.H., native, who’s nowadays running his operation out of Rhode Island. He’s worked his way up in the world, having opened up for basically anyone who’ll have him, from James Montgomery to The Samples to, um, waitwhat, the Dresden Dolls. What’s going on here is a mostly unplugged Dylan-meets-Tom Petty entry. The record’s release party was set for Feb. 7 at Chantilly’s Restaurant in Hooksett. B

—Eric W. Saeger

Niambi, Taboo (Easier Said Records)

Debut solo EP for this Washington, D.C.,-born artist, who, after establishing herself as one-half of the neo-soul/hip-hop duo OSHUN now operates out of Puerto Rico. I really have no complaints regarding this record aside from its length; hopefully there’ll be a lot more of her to hear soon. On first listen I’d attest that this stuff is state-of-the-art trip-hop, beginning with “Soccer Mom,” whose subliminally buzzy busy-signal-ish sample fits perfectly with this lady’s stoned-out-of-her-gourd-style flow; it’s underground to a fault but simultaneously non-threatening, given its sexually ambivalent attitude (Billie Eilish could learn some things from this girl, take that however you wish). “No Budget” is a page right out of Massive Attack’s Heligoland-era schematic, with a lazy, tick-tocking drum line reminiscent of “Teardrop” (the theme to the old House TV series if you’re unfamiliar). “Run It” is the record’s final entry, the closest thing to a trap joint in the set but undeniably soulful. Great things ahead for this lady, no doubt. A+ —Eric W. Saeger

PLAYLIST

• Before we get into the new releases streeting this Friday, Jan. 24, I’d like everyone in the class to please pick up your copy of the Dec. 26, 2024, Hippo and take a look at the ribbing I gave former British boyband-numbskull Robbie Williams for the soundtrack for his album Better Man (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack), based on his biopic of the same name. You see, Variety just announced the numbers for the independently made Paramount-released movie (please ask your kids to leave the room, folks, this is for mature audiences only). Ahem, it was a record-breaker in the States, all right: It appeared in 1,291 movie theaters and made $1 million, which would be great if it had cost $5 to make, but guess what: it cost $110 million to make! Even overseas, where people actually even know who that dude is, it’s only made $4.9 million! Now, it might have done better if Williams hadn’t been portrayed by a digitally animated chimpanzee in the film, but you know what, I’m glad he was, because now maybe we have a new Rocky Horror Picture Show to mock and deride and laugh at. I’ll tell you, I don’t mind being right all the time, but this was like winning the Lotto!• Cool beans, we’re almost done with stupid wasteful frozen January already, let’s go! Friday the 31st will see a bunch of new albums, which we must talk about now, so let’s do that, please let’s! Why don’t we kick off the week with The Purple Bird from Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy, real name Joseph Oldham, known for his “do-it-yourself punk aesthetic and blunt honesty.” Music critics who are just trying to get their columns finished for the week usually associate his music with Americana, folk, roots, country, punk and indie rock, but this new album’s leadoff single, “London May,” is Guster-like and formulaic in a sonic sense: The piano-bonking chorus is compelling enough to prevent it from being written off as unlistenable, much as it deserves it. “Downstream” is more interesting, possessed of a bluegrass patina that mixes dobro and Irish ren-faire folk; it’d be pretty great if not for the guest vocal from overrated country singer John Anderson. Oldham is trying too hard to be eclectic there, but Flight of the Conchords fans will probably like it for its faux-sincerity and world music feel.

• L.S. Dunes is something of an Aughts supergroup, fronted by Circa Survive/Saosin vocalist Anthony Green, who’s backed by My Chemical Romance guitarist Frank Iero, Coheed and Cambria guitarist Travis Stever, bassist Tim Payne and drummer Tucker Rule from the band Thursday. Their new LP Violet is heading to your Soundclouds as we speak; it’s the follow-up to their 2022 debut Past Lives, which sputtered at No. 174 in the U.S. charts despite its spazzy screamo/extreme-metal-tinged single “Permanent Rebellion,” which is nevertheless a pretty cool tune if you give it a chance (since I know you won’t bother, I’d urge you instead to go listen to the new album’s title track, which is in the same vein but slightly more accessible, sort of like Fall Out Boy with a jet pack strapped to its butt). These guys are definitely on to something, but their survival depends on suburban American youth’s capacity for taking scream seriously in [current_year]. (One annoying side effect of my looking into this band on YouTube was that I’ve ever since been spammed by ads for the Coheed and Cambria/Taking Back Sunday tour, which, by the way, will be coming to Boston’s MGM Music Hall on August 30; I will not be attending that one, for the record.)

• Manic Street Preachers is a Welsh alt-rock band that’s done some interesting stuff over the near 40 years of their existence, including their older hit “La Tristesse Durera (Scream to a Sigh),” which krazy-glued grunge-rock to Jet in a long-overdue experiment (I liked that one a lot more than their more popular hit “Motorcycle Emptiness,” but your mileage may vary). They’re officially old nowadays, so their forthcoming LP Critical Thinking includes a transparent attempt to dent the AOR charts, specifically with the single “Hiding in Plain Sight,” a sleepy mid-tempo rocker that might have been interesting in 1967 but won’t do much for anyone under 40 today, I assure you. That’s not to say that traditional rock ’n’ roll is dead, but bands like this should really Google the word “electronic sampling” for all our sakes.

• We’ll end this week’s nonsense with Maribou State, an English electronic music duo famous for remixing stuff from Alpines, Lana Del Rey and anyone else who’ll put up with them. Their new full-length Hallucinating Love features the single “Bloom,” a ’60s-soul-tinted that’s got a lot to offer in the electro-experimentation department. They’ll be at the Royale in Boston on May 8. —Eric W. Saeger

Featured Photo: J. Michael Graham, Stuck (self-released) and Niambi, Taboo (Easier Said Records)

In the kitchen with Elisbet Dupont

Baker and owner of Bittersweet Bake Shoppe (272 Derry Road, Litchfield, 978-649-2253, bittersweetbakeshoppe.com)

Elisbet Dupont is a graphic designer from Venezuela and the new owner of Bittersweet Bake Shoppe.

“I came here 20 years ago,” she said. “I work a lot with my hands. I love designing and crafting things with my hands. I love decorating cakes — that’s how I came to the bakery to work for Lynn [former Bittersweet Bake Shop owner Lynn Donnelly]. I was making figures with fondant or buttercream. That was my job here, helping her decorating birthday cakes …. I worked with her for 14 years — for 10 years in Tyngsboro, and then after 10 years she moved here. I had a food truck called Tres Latinas. There were three girls and we opened it in the pandemic. It was open for four years, and then I decided to close it last year. And now I’m in business by myself. I just became the owner of the bakery last week. It feels exciting and overwhelming at the same time.”

What is your must-have item in your kitchen?

Flour. I need to have that to make everything. It’s the main ingredient for everything I make. I use flour for bread, and then flour for pastries. My specialty is cachitos — a light wheat bread stuffed with ham, or chicken, or guava.

What is your favorite thing on your menu?

My favorite thing is that — the cachitos. I didn’t have a lot of room to make it in the food truck, so now I feel I have the space and the equipment to make them and then bake them. It’s easier for me. And people are loving them so it makes me really happy.

What would you have for your last meal?

I would have scrambled eggs and a cachito and tres leches cake. I like my scrambled eggs a little soft.

What is your most popular item?

I think birthday cakes are what people call in the most orders for. … The rest of the items — cookies and pastries — they are here because we want to offer them, and we know that people like them, but the item that people call us for is birthday cake.

What is your favorite place to eat, locally?

I’m Spanish-speaking, so I like Mexican food. Around here, I love California Burritos; they’re really good.

Is there a celebrity you would like to see eating your food?

I had David Ortiz, the baseball player, try my food. He went to the food truck and he tried my arepas. He loved it. I made the arepain the shape of his logo. It was very nice.

What do you like to cook at home?

At home, I make arepas for my daughter. I make them with cheese, with butter, and with chicken for my husband, bacon, bacon, egg and cheese — kind of an American arepa. And then pasta with my homemade tomato sauce. My daughter asked me to have that here at the bakery, but I don’t know if I can include that item here. I don’t know yet.

Venezuelan Tres Leches Cake (Three-Milk-Cake)

1 stick of unsalted butter (room temperature)
1 cup of granulated sugar
5 eggs (room temperature)
1 Tablespoon baking powder
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup condensed milk
1 cup evaporated milk
1 cup whole milk
2 cups whipped cream (topping)

Using a mixer combine the stick of butter and sugar until fluffy. Add the eggs one by one, then add flour and baking powder, and mix until smooth.
Spray baking oil on a 10” by 10” square baking pan and pour in the batter. Bake in a 350°F oven for about 20-25 minutes. Once the cake is baked you can cut it 4×4 to get 16 small pieces. Pour the three milks combined in the cake, and let it soak in the refrigerator for a couple hours. You can decorate with whipped cream and enjoy a delicious Venezuelan Tres Leches Cake!

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