Category Archives: Lips

Icecream, kisses, lipstick, … all that enlightens the lips!

Catcher in the … ryesourdough

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! 😉

It’s difficult to stay flat over Christmas …

Panettoncino per tutti

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!

For instant happiness, just add mascarpone creme!

Kicks and Hugs

… and that’s when Xandl, Lydia and myself thought: why not go and have a nightcup, a cocktail somewhere close by, nothing out of the ordinary. The closest bar that evening happened to be Bryk Bar, a place I had been to twice: decent, but as requested nothing out of the ordinary. Enter the three of us. Seated and supplied with a small glass of water each we’re being served the more than mediocre salty snack (popcorn, good heavens!) and handed over the menu. Cocktails are ordered and take a long time to be served, which we are indifferent about, since the conversation is uplifting and the mood is summery. Cocktails are finally being served and the evening flows on, until at some point Xandl and I start to feel the emptiness in our water glasses. Since the sideboard just next to us hosts a large quantity of glasses already filled with tap water, we think no evil thoughts and serve ourselves. Suffice it to say that in Sweden for example, ANY sub-standard coffee shop has a table with tap water for anyone to serve themselves. High-end cocktail bars see it as a matter of course that their customers’ water glasses are never empty. Our lofty summer mood was in no way deteriorated until that point, we overlook such negligence with an air of aristocratic nonchalence native to well-traveled, grown-up citizens of Earth. After a prolonged period of time: arrival of Mademoiselle la Serveuse with her water jug. “What do I see? Why are there more water glasses?” She sharply looks at us, then to the sideboard, then back to us. Xandl, Lydia and I exchange glances of amazement without having any suitable answer … it is a situation to burst into hours of laughter, which turns into the epitome of grotesqueness as she adds without awaiting a reply from our part: “We have no self-service here. I’ll bring you the bill!” Bitte lachen Sie: jetzt! And there she goes and fetches the bill. Which we pay with an air of … etcetera, etcetera. What shall I say other than: there is a first time for everything. Being kicked out of a cocktail bar. Not in my wildest dreams. Because, believe me: we ARE the customers you really want as a bar. Not only because we have spent more money in 25 years in cocktail bars than other people have paid taxes all their lives, no, also and mainly because we are the most civilized and well behaved of drinkers! Bars from Tokyo, Melbourne, all over Europe to NYC will be able to testify and confirm. How the poor people of Bryk Bar were able to fail to see that we’ll never know, because of the obviousness for their having been erased from our mental drinks-landscape.

The story continues.

As Xandl&Lydia were headed for their hotel, I had the pleasure to bike to Kreuzberg, to Mister-Mister Johansson. Since the evening was fairly young and we are fairly old, I proposed to wash away the bitterness of recent events with a glass at the most formidable of bars in Berlin: Thelonious Bar. As we arrive we are greeted by the barkeeper, hands are shaken, drinks are stirred, the water glasses are never empty. The proprietor appears at some point and offers a round of sophisticated shots on the house, the barkeeper makes us try his latest addition to the rhum selection – bref: une soirée comme elle se doit! As we are about to head home, the proprietor hugs us on our way out! Round of smiles for everyone.

When does one ever get to experience the worst and the best of anything within two hours? Seldom. But that evening, I did. You lovely people of Thelonious Bar, I drink to your health and long life – à la votre! Good night, and good luck.

The Age of Aquarius

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).

Man sollte vermeiden den Stier zu ärgern … durch einen sanften Cocktail. Dem kann ich nur zustimmen!

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!

Graphic art in cocktail books now and then …

Joiseph

Spät aber doch, ein post über Xandls “Joiseph“. Virtuell kann man nicht kosten … aber das ist auch gut so. Wein hat mit Genuss zu tun, und Genuss mit sich Zeit nehmen. Es muss nicht immer alles instantan zur Verfügung stehen, das wollen uns bloß die jedes-Jahr-ein-neues-Handy-Industrie & Co einreden. Wir glauben ihnen nicht. Stattdessen lassen wir uns Zeit und trinken Joiseph.

Bei so einem koidn Joiseph an einem lauen Sommerabend … da muss bei einem einfachen Menschen einfach Freude aufkommen!

Groß auch war die Überraschung, als letzten Sommer im Gro, Stockholm plötzlich ein Joiseph an der Theke stand. Die Sommelière war begeistert als sie ihn entdeckte, wie sie persönlich berichtete. À la votre! kann man da nur sagen.

Joiseph @Gro restaurant, Stockholm

Category “brains”, because as with any other alcoholic beverage … use caution in order to protect it! 😉