Nicht alle Rezepte müssen von Schwedens bestem Koch (sorry honey, that’s not you – yet – although I really like your pecan thumbprint cookies!) stammen, aber sirapslimpa (Mitte) und vörtbröd (rechts unten – ein sehr gewürznelkiges Brot mit Gerstenmalz) können wenn man will, man muss dazu aber nicht unbedingt den traditionellen schwedischen Holzofen anfeuern, Anleitung siehe Seiten 151-154! 😉
Normalerweise bin ich kein großer Fan der Panettone, was aber daran liegen mag, dass der Panettone-Markt mit industrieller Massenware überschwemmt ist. Kaufen, kaufen, kaufen! Zu Weihnachten ja kein unbekannter Schlachtruf, den ich nur immer wieder so kommentieren kann: lasst ab vom Konsumrausch, schenkt nichts Materielles – will heißen GAR nichts! 😉
Geht allenfalls miteinander essen und trinken, zum Beispiel ins vor nicht allzu langer Zeit von uns entdeckten Italo-Bistro Mini. Dort kredenzte man letzten Samstag ein Weihnachtsabendessen, bei dem die Köchin einfach ständig Köstlichkeiten aus der Küche brachte und direkt auf die Teller der Gäste verteilte, unter anderem Risotto mit Kürbis und Amaretti (!), gnocchi in Butter-Parmesan-Salbei Soße gefüllt mit ricotta, selbstgemachte Ravioli, Polenta, Würste, vitello tonnato, Kartoffelauflauf, etc. etc. etc. Zum Abschluss wurde dann besagte Pannetone geteilt, mit mascarpone creme! Große Überraschung, denn grande gioia sie war köstlich! Nicht der fade, trocken-fasrige Schwamm, der in den Supermärkten aufgetürmt ist, sondern artigianale Qualität und Geschmack von BreraMilano1930. Vielleicht müsste man doch mal wieder in die nebbia milanese hinunterreisen …
Damit wünsche ich allen eine gesegnete Verdauung und ein Weihnachten ohne Baum und Geschenke!
When I recently found this tiny and fabulous blue cocktail recipe booklet in mum’s kitchen in our countryside house, I had to “secure” it immediately 🙂 Not so much because of the recipes, which are obviously neither special nor unbiased, but rather an attempt of the brand to sell their average products, but much more because of the cute format and the lovely 50s/60s graphic design! Executed with much care, which is rarely seen today in similar tokens (Hendrick’s Gin was the producer of the only comparable booklet I’ve come across during recent years), it naturally does not satisfy 2018 standards of gender equality, although when looking at Sagittarius, the lady who blocks the arrow in a nonchalant way with her drink seems to think to herself: “Ah, fuck off!” and indulge in her own splendid ennui, superbly aided by her beverage (click to enlarge image).
Funnily enough, and as often is the case, a related item popped up around the same time independently, in the form of the formidable cocktail book by Tony Conigliaro’s 69 Colebrooke Row, one of our favourite London cocktail bars, which Björn brought me from a recent solo-trip to the town of funk (how DARE he drink those Hemingway Daiquiris without me!?). A fabulous book already by it’s stories and cocktail recipes, the drawings by Yasmin Sandytia it contains – although having a distinct contemporary touch – are very much reminiscent of the 50s/60s aesthetics as found in above shown Cinzano booklet in my opinion.
À la votre – to what we love!
A blog post about an expired credit card? Where could be the sensuality in such an endeavour? Blog of the Senses. Money as such is unsensual. At most it has a haptic quality. It actually HAS a lot of haptic aspects. Bills, coins. How vain and ephemeral they are. Mindtwisters of humanity. Yet fascinating. Young people panicked when the Euro was introduced in Austria. They had to multiply/divide by 13,76. Horror ensued. Not in my grandma’s household. She pragmatically took her notebook and said: “Whenever the currency changes, I prepare a little list with prices of things I usually buy and/or have to pay in order to get used to the new numbers.” She smiled a bit I think to remember. For her it was the 5th currency she had lived to see. I don’t think she ever owned a credit card in her life. Sweden is abolishing cash now, and other countries will follow for sure, giving way to banks to charge us negative interest (since we can’t take out all our “cash” from their accounts anymore and thus force them to play capitalism to our benefit …. enfin. Whom do I want to fool. We live in the best of all possible worlds, we know that much. Bitcoin is not a solution, is it?). I lost track. Cash. Plastic money. Right. This particular plastic money thingy of mine has a certain (hi)story to tell. It is in a way synonym for an era. An era of longing, of long distances, of frequent travelling (british English – good bye, by the way, we will miss you, islanders. You’re Europeans – if you want to be that or not!). It didn’t (just) pay for a lot of trips, from Tokyo to Martinique, from Reykjavik to Athens, Lisbon to Helsinki. Through all those years and most of all maintenant, it reminds me of the obvious: that money – be it plastic, bronze, gold, haptic or not – is a bitch! Mindtwister of humanity. Travelling is mind-expanding. Being able to do it without risk and limits is a luxury only very few people on Earth enjoy. Lets remind ourselves of that from time to time.
By now many (both) readers will have realized that this blog post is trying to follow a spiral-shaped path and is not really sure of where it is going. 😉 Be it as it may, … I wish I had the means to travel for real, and if a physicist says a thing like this we all know what it means: space! Spaceships! REAL travel involves spaceships, doesn’t it? I wonder if on Betegeuze-Alpha they still have cash. In a way I hope they have. I like the haptic quality of a coin. Recently, I see those little posters which they put above pissoirs in cafés and restaurants in Germany, sponsored by the ministry of health, saying that cash/bills/coins carry germs! WTF. One doesn’t die so quickly. Humanity wouldn’t be here otherwise. Think of toilets in the middle ages (if any!). Our DNA is programmed to survive a few dirty coins in 2018! It has been in more fn dirty places in the course of history, believe me … believe HISTORY!
Sådär. I’m not a frequent traveler anymore. So be it, Jedi. Jacques Brel just started singing “Ne me quitte pas”. I always hate/love him for doing that. One can travel ANYwhere if one’s phantasy is just large enough. He knew it. Maybe he was one of those people who have been everywhere.
For those who read until here:
And for those of you who do NOT long to just board the next atlantic cruiser to leave for whatever shore it may head for …: all hope is gone.
Die Hoffnung stirbt zuletzt und nichts wird so heiß gegessen wie es gekocht wird. Man muss nirgends hinreisen. Das gesamte Universum ist unseren Gehirnen zu jedem Zeitpunkt zugänglich. Jede/r Unbekannte ist befreundet und freundlich gesinnt. Freundschaft ist Sinnlichkeit. Chér inconnu. Chére inconnue.
Good night, and good luck.
Christmas markets are not my thing usually. It so happened however, that Björn found a small korean-japanese one on Karl-Marx-Allee the other day. That sounded more intriguing than your average Glühwein&Co headache! There was also Glühwein there, I admit, but also cute stands of all kinds, with rare&bizarre objects, as was hoped for! For example tiny retro soy sauce flasks in blue glass B-) But the real deal was the last area we explored (there was an indoors), which hosted Berlin based Kimonomono. She had a fabulous choice of kimonos and yakutas, and there was no way to resist this 1910s-1920s long-sleeve kimono (long sleeves indicate the young woman is unmarried 🙂 )