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Geo-biology
The Paris meetings went badly, somehow everything gets complicated these days. Endless delay after endless delay, two steps forward costs three steps back.
So I got on the bus to Opera and a young guy at the front has some kind of heart attack or faint or whatever, he looked like drugs actually. Anyway the guy passes out so the bus driver stops, asks us all to get out, and calls an ambulance on his radio. The other passengers wait patiently for the next bus, but I walk.
Down some side streets, I love to follow my nose while generally going in the right direction.
A genteman ghost from the past wearing a wig (or was it a little angel with curly hair and flat dancing shoes?) leads me into a courtyard, and then another courtyard, and then through a tiny shop door.
It was like walking into a cave, or worse, like a fairground where you feels oppressed and bombarded with the noise of bumber cars, sirens, loud music, the smell of kebas and hot dogs, laughter and screams, gunshot.
But this was a different kind of bombardment: this shop sells stones, bits of rock, beautiful and strange artefacts that emit energies I had hardly dreamt of. I broke out in a sweat, my head was spinning, and then I saw a piece of Indian Amethyst…
Minérales do Brasil sold me the rock which, specialists claim, can transform negative waves into positive energy. I also bought a small black tourmaline stone to protect me from the pollution of our sad modern world.
The Magick has returned, now stronger than ever. -
Torture on a Mediterranean Island
Paris is windy, the plane very bumpy coming in to Orly.
I finally sent the annual toothpaste e-mail and got this photo in reply. It simply said “Torture on a Mediterranean Island October 2006”.
I hope I get the toothpaste as I am in serious “get healthy” mode at the moment starting with getting my teeth fixed. Other aspects of this dramatic u-turn in my lifestyle include: only eat chinese or japanese food, drink green tea, eat slowly and have more sex.
I have only used this salty German toothpaste for the last few decades so all my German friends and ex-friends get regular demands for the stuff which is exported no-where and apparently unavailable on the internet (or maybe my non-existent German is the problem, Mein Gott in Himmel).
The photo says a lot to me actually. The ex-friend is question is still having his breakfast alone every morning and therefore, most probably, going to bed alone every night. Plus he wants to show off that he can afford luxury Mediterranean island holidays in October. This is all he deserves really but that is another story involving screwing my sister and getting her arrested. The toothpaste is really the only redeeming factor about him. Poor fish. -
Vegetarian gratin
Off on my travels again, Paris, Monte-Carlo then maybe even Hungary. The planes and airports are as unpleasant as ever, it’s just the pain of travelling is shorter by air.
Found some extremely interesting documents about how to diet by eating oriental food. Very little meat, chinese tea, take your time and eat your rice and sauce seperately, not mixed up. More about this in future posts
Meanwhile a variation of a vegetable lasagne recipe that Nicole gave me last year. She made this with layers of herb “ravioles” which are basically little raviolis made somewhere in the east of France
– place alternate layers of sliced courgettes, sliced tomatoes and smoked salmon in an ovenproof dish
– add plenty of pepper and a little fresh cream (the tomatoes give out most of the moisure requires for this dish)
– top with mozarella and grated cheese
– bake in a hot oven until the courgettes are cooked and the cheese lightly browned (about 30 minutes)
– you can replace or add layers with lasagne or indeed other sliced or finely chopped vegetables. -
Things we can’t explain and poems from nowhere
André called. The radio pollution is getting unbearable in his house. At first we thought it was the digital television signal coming off the mountains but the force of the waves is such that we suspect that they increased power the mobile phone antenna on the nearby autoroute.
I’m trying to get André here, it’s been too long since we met and we seem to help each other face up to the inside feeling of impending doom.For the first time we spoke about building a house. At least if we can contribute to helping the environnment, it may help or inspire others…who knows?
I received some pictures from a book. The pages scream out at me like those old books in Menton, the ones the Gestapo had tried to destroy, fortunately without success.a world awaits me
my instinct believes
plunged in your eyes
your magic received
a knot that unites
none can undo
I had broken my life
and then again I found you -
Roulades de Poulet farcis aux trompettes de la Mort
Mushrooms again. Millions of them. Normally this species (Craterelles cornucopioides) only comes every five years and we picked and dried huge quantities last year. Their re-appearance this year is therefore a pleasant surprise, albeit yet another symptom of world climate change and disorder.Of course I was woken up at 7 in the morning with the farmer ploughing the field next door. They are harvesting the maize too, until late at night, so it is not as peaceful as one would expect at this time of year.
Meanwhile chicken rolls stuffed with trompettes
– soak the dried Trompette mushrooms in a little warm water for 20 minutes (same for fresh ones as this eliminates the grit and the strained water is used for the sauce)
– cut a pouch in the chicken breasts and stuff with the mushrooms
– roll in a very thin slice of smoked ham which holds everything together
– sprinkle with flour, brush with a beaten egg, and then coat with breadcrumbs
– place on a greased dish in a hot oven until browned and cooked through (about 25 minutes)
– reduce a little stock with some of the water from the soaked Trompettes (strain to remove any dirt and grit), some Madiera (or Port), some blueberry jam and fruit (in France you can buy these fresh in season and all year round in a jar or tin, other names include myrtilles, Vaccinium myrtillus, whortleberry), salt and pepper, thicken with a little fresh cream
– pour the sauce over the chicken rolls and serve with fresh pasta -
The Bullshit Threshold
Cannes and Marseilles this week which explains the lack of posts, it’s not that I’m getting lazy, more that our business and civilisation has become so complicated there is no time for recreation nor relaxation.The trade fair was actually quite fun for a change (“been there, done that”), because loyal friends and human communication is always better than the fucking internet. However the bullshit threshold descends as we get older, I just cannot tolerate idiots in the way I used to be able to do. Sadly this bloody business has a very high proportion of imbeciles.
Marseilles is a nice city, photo taken from the car with my mobile phone just to prove I was there, this is a church just near the old port.
Of course I missed the exit off the autoroute, had a very undercooked and unpleasant pizza, ruined a shirt and tie by splashing greasy pizza topping on it (the waiter actually said “I think you’ll need to by a new shirt, sir”) and generally got tired by driving 500kms in the day. This was all forgotten upon arrival back home, I cooked a wonderful Roghan Josh for our guests (recipe to appear here soon, maybe) and everyone was happy.