Out of the way

Really. I am writing on the bus, which is maybe a nice thing to be able to do.

I've been travelling a fair bit. Some notes and thoughts...

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I spend a lot of my time travelling, and people often say "that must be nice", or ask "don't you get sick of it?" The answer is a bit of both. To illustrate...

(I wrote the post before I travelled to Luxembourg. There's a whole post coming about that trip...)

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Hice un pan de frutas ayer. De vez en cuando hago pan pero este era lo mejor de que me acuerdo.

Mas o menos es como se llama - un pan hecho con frutas. La "receta" (no estoy muy de recetas) salió asi:

Harina integral, (1/4 kilo ?)
Un poquito de sal.
algunas (7?) cucharitas de azucar y miel
levadura
agua y leche 50%/50%
La mitad de una manzana, un puñado de orejones de alboricoque y uno de pasas de uva - todos cortado en trozos pequenos (tamaño un garbanzo pequeño o por alli)

Ops! Olvidé - agregué un puñado de almendras cortado bastante fino.

Lo dejé a levantar (se dice asi?) 8 horas (porque salí, no de proposito) en una sola vez, y puse en el horno medio hasta parecia hecho. Pues lo comí 15 horas mas tarde, tal cual y tostado con mantequilla.

y MMMMMMMMMMM

In Madrid playing with new toys...

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Norway is one of the few country that still kills whales. Allegedly, I believe it is still for research. In practice, it seems that it is for food.

I am not convinced that whaling is intrinsically evil (any more than eating cows or calamari, at least). I do believe that we need to be careful of the environment, but I do eat meat and I find it hard to figure out the basic difference between eating different animals (except that some don't taste good), as opposed to differences based on the effective management of resources to minimise the damage to "the environment" - particular species, and particular ecosystems.

But there are not a lot of whale recipes about. There isn't that much whalemeat about, either - I have seen it in the supermarket, and in the odd restaurant. But a book of whale recipes doesn't seem to be the thing that people give you when you turn up in Norway. I know people eat it, but they seem a little shy about it - a little like not owning up to smoking until you are sure that people will not ostracise you.

So, how do you cook a whale? It's red meat, but that is about as much as I really know. I was pondering the idea of a whale cake (based on the marginally less scary idea of a meat cake).The best idea I have at the moment (with input from Claudio and Eira) is to make a cake shell with 50/50 almond meal and flour, and then put maybe some parsnip mash, some quince paste (dulce de membrillo), and sour cream.

Or maybe it isn't the best idea. Anyone got a suggestion? You don't have to actually eat a whale, just think about food...

Trying to cook a meal a week can be hard when travelling...

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A few good things happened in Japan. A few more in Australia...

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There is a song that gets stuck in my head from time to time (even when I haven't been to Ireland) called "Summer in Dublin". The bit I remember of it (and so the bit that plays on endless loop for an hour or three) is

I remember that summer in Dublin
The Liffey how it stank like hell
The young people walking down Grafton street
and everyone looking so well

I was singing a song I heard somewhere
called Rock 'n Roll never forgets
When my humming was smothered by the 46A
And the scream of a low-flying jet

So I jumped on a bus to Dun Laoghaire
Stopping off to pick up my guitar
When a drunk on the bus told me how to get rich
I was glad we weren't going too far

Apparently it is by Liam Reilly and Bagatelle, and was a huge hit in 1980. I learned it from the Irish Hooligans (also called the Hooligang and some other stuff, a band set up by Ben Flood and friends in Melbourne in the mid to late 90s)

It is summer in Oslo. The nights are short, and not really night - a sort of dark twilight that goes away again. The parks and beaches are filled with people and engangsgriller (one-time barbecues), being used to cook the inevitable grillpølser (barbecue sausages).

(I would post a photo of one, but it seems to have been eaten by a flaky blog system I used to use)

Although it is technically illegal to drink in public in Norway, there are often people enjoying a quiet beer or wine with their barbecue.

People go out at night, although it means they leave a bar as the day is coming, or before it gets "dark". The streets are full of people. The women generally dress up in Oslo. The boys don't, so much - and I don't in apparent male solidarity or something.

It's something I never quite got the hang of. I can dress up for real in a nice suit and tie, and brush my hair and clean my nails and look perfectly presentable. It is when people dress nicely but not really formally that I am often left feeling either overdressed or underdressed. Admittedly summer isn't the right weather for me to get it right - sitting around quietly in shirtsleeves my melting point is probably not far above 20˚. Besides, by nature I tend to be very casual about appearance. Or is it that I just do that to cover the uneasy feeling I get that I will somehow manage to look a little out of place?

But if I can't get the hang of the clothing thing, I can take my guitar to the park and play it. I've never seriously done that before before this summer. I realise, too, that I still have quite a way to go before people actually ask me to play (although now some especially polite people don't ask me to stop, which is something ). And yet it is a pleasure that I have never really known before, to play music for people. As my singing improves ever so slowly, even that becomes more fun and less tinged with fear. (At least for me, since I am always optimistic about how the next song will turn out. I guess the audience might have a different perspective...)

I'm still more likely to impress them by cooking, and that is something that makes me happy. I am not a big fan of the engangsgrill staple sausages, ketchup, mustard, and airy bread (although I don't mind lømper). So I managed to cook some pretty decent food on the engangsgrill, and discovered that it is even possible to make an espresso, albeit with a lot of effort and "encouragement". I suspect I still have a way to go before I am a master of the little tinfoil tray of charcoal (and a small bellows would be handy on occasion). So maybe by the time I am 40 I will be able to make a presentable effort of offering people a decent grill with music.

It's a nice little dream, anyway. Little enough to be allowed out to play, even.

If you've got any tips, let fly. (Same with fashion hints, although I still like my orange shirt and will probably still wear it from time to time). Otherwise, come join me on a summer evening or two when I am there. It's still nice out...

[For those of you who were looking for the sex in here, it's my tag and it's for things where I note that there are differences between boys and girls...]

J'ai lu mon premier livre en norvegien il y a une semaine - "Babette's Gjestebud". Je l'avais vu, il y a des années (en anglais, "Babette's feast") et bien apprecié. Donc ce n'est pas vraiment une surprise que j'ai aimé aussi le livre.

C'est l'histoire d'un diner (evidemment, vu le titre), des gens religieuses d'une tradition puritanique, et d'une artiste de la cuisine qui, quoique soient ses idées politiques, doit créer de l'art pour cuex qui vont l'apprecier. C'est aussi l'histoire des gens qui osent ou n'osent pas suivre leurs rêves.

Le style et lent, ou plutôt quiet, subtile - plus n'est pas dit, ce qui est aussi le style de la plupart des protagonistes. Je n'ai pas tout compris, mais j'ai assez appris en lisant, pour bien suivre ce qui se passait par les pages.

En gros, ce m'a bien convenu. Je ne suis jamais toute les mots d'une conversation dans n'importe quelle langue, mais si je m'y interesse je suis normalement assez bien. Et quand on discute la cuisine, je m'y interesse - bien plus quand c'est l'art de la cuisine, le desir de cuisiner pour des gens.

Parce qu'enfin une de mes passions dans la vie, c'est cuisiner pour les gens. Que ce soit pour une personne, ou une centaine, c'est vraiment quelque chose que me motive, m'inspire, me donne la sensation de creation que je n'arrive pas à faire quand je chante, ou essaye de jouer la guitare. C'est comme écrire, mais je crois que je cuisine mieux, et c'est plus concret car je vois les gens manger, apprecier (ou parfois ne pas apprecier ) le repas. Et manger donne un plaisir physique aux gens. Lire est plutôt spirituel, emotionel, ou intellectuel (bien que ça aussi est important).

Well, I am not at home. Annd I didn't see the sunrise - when it did I was in a train, head buried in paperwork, and no view of the sky out the windows. I like the sunrise - I am not a morning person, but I love to watch it happen, even indirectly seeing the colours in the sky. I used to work for Sunrise, in the lands of the Laynha, or Sunrise, people.

I'm in the land of the rising sun, the vending machine, and the occasionally serious but somewhat idiosyncratic attempt to borrow some supposed european glamour for things that don't really have it. One of the nice things about Japan, when walking around in the small hours of a winter morning, is vending machines that sell hot drinks - mostly green tea and various varieties of coffee. Actually it is nice whenever it's cold, and Japan has proper winters still.

Hot black coffee, milky coffee, coffee that probably has no milk or coffee in it but is the right colour, and various types of green tea ranging from the pale-and-wan compared to water to the bite-your-throat all the way. This of course goes with all kinds of cold drinks. (But, contrary to what I have been told, I have never seen an underwear vending machine of any kind - the closest I have found is normal mens underwear, packaged to within an inch of its life, in 7-eleven, which is called 7-i here now).

But french milk tea? Hey folks, I think that's not quite right. I know french people who make, and like, tea. I know it can be done in france. But it does seems just a little odd. French leave, French food, French fries, there are various things associated with the word (if not actually with the place).

Tea just ain't one...

But hey, it's possible very nice. Anyway, here's cheers