Light & Easy - School Nights Edition

We've extended our Light & Easy meal theme to the entire week. These were the highlights:

Tomatoes and Mozzarella Salad with a Slice of Salmon



For the salad, Toño used Mozzarella di Bufala Campana and blanched and filleted tomatoes. You get the best results, if you use tomatoes of the kind Cuore di Bue, aka Bulls Heart oder Giant Ox Heart. Instead of basil, you can also use coriander (cilantro). Don't forget to season with Balsamic vinegar, pepper and salt. The salad goes also quite well with a slice of slightly fried tuna.

Refreshing Chicken Soup



Lemon, mint and sprouts make this the most refreshing soup I happen to know. Heat a bit of salted butter with lemon rind, lemon juice and the mint in a pan. Slice a big chicken breast and add it to the pan. Stir until the chicken turns white. Add stock and soup pasta and let it boil on low heat for 10 minutes. Decorate with sprouts of your choice.

Today we will deviate from our Light & Easy theme. We are invited to a Midsummer Night Dinner party. Life is about finding the right balance. Isn't it?

Ready to Flaunt

Toño's wonderjock has arrived. However, there is no reason to flock at Oerlikon tonight. Sorry, but he will not wear it during regular training sessions. We usually have to do some lanes of backstroke and we don't want to cause any shark alert.

Light & Easy

Maybe having his wonderjocks in mind, Toño asked for light and easy meals this weekend, when I went shopping on Saturday. Well this was my interpretation of his command:

Cannelloni ai zucchini



Paillard de boeuf avec ratatouille



Cherry Pie



Mediterranean Potato Salad

The Moscato d'Asti Project

Self indulgence is essential. Why? Because we all have deserved it so much and we're getting far to little gratitude anyway. Having this in mind and feeling the vibes of the times, we had to come to the conclusion that both this summer's indulgence and wine must be the Moscato d'Asti.

Moscato d'Asti is a very special effervescent wine from Italy's Piedmont region. Moscato d'Asti is aromatic semi-sparkling wine (about half the carbonation of a typical sparkler) with a mild level of sweetness balanced by vibrant acidity. Moscato d'Asti also serves well as a dessert wine, but possesses enough versatility to be enjoyed as a refreshing aperitif.

This summer we plan to taste a wide variety of Moscato d'Asti. Stay tuned and indulge yourself with us. But first we (i.e. Toño) have to carry the goods home.

The Car

Some weeks ago, Toño brought up a very itchy subject: The Car, like in We should get a car.

No, we haven't got one. Not because I'm a hopeless tree hugger. I have three other arguments for not having one:

1. Cars are just a big nuisance (maintenance, insurance, you can't drink and drive)
2. We live in a city. Parking space is rare and expensive and traffic jams rather frequent. Public transport in Switzerland is convenient, rather dense and on time most of the time.
3. We have Mobility. This is the most convenient car sharing scheme in the world. I can get a car within 15 minutes, if I needed one.

You see, I'vew prepared my case well. However, the good old Boy Scout rule goes be prepared!. If I can't say No! any more, I had to look that we get the right car - that is, a car with the right brand image. There is nothing more important that this.

E.g. it is absolutely impossible for me to drive an Audi. An Audi speaks to me like: My driver is in the middle management and can afford to pay far too much for a Volkswagen. Whether true or not, that is not what I want others to think of me.

Aston Martin would be a nice choice. However, I'm still a wage slave and somehow Aston Martin's brand image tells me that this just does not match.

I'm in quite a dilemma. But there is always the press. Hence, I spent some time on these sordid car sections of the papers. Car journalists are not for no reason the lowest of the lowest of this not quite well regarded trade. Back on track. I actually found some brand spanking new cars I might like. Here are the top two:

Fiat 500



Back in the eighties, when I was working in the construction business, I was driving an older model (company car). It's the perfect town car, agile and so unpretentious that it's fashionable.

Rolls-Royce Phantom Drophead Coupé



Closer to a sailing boat than a car (teak deck!), unmatched by anything called car, but what really got me were the thoughtful details. Such as the two big umbrellas that reside inside the hull. If you put them back wet, a fan dries them. Simply fantastic!

Limón y sal

Next Monday, Zurich's doctors will be busy setting peoples hips. This weekend, the town is in Latinos' hands. We are celebrating CALIENTE!.

Sharing my life with a Mexican, I could hardly stand outside. Thus we went to see Julieta Venegas.



I liked her music before the concert. But now she's burnt herself into my heart. Not only is she wearing frocks (always a plus with women), she is also extremely charming. And then there is this wonderful music. If there is any woman that could keep up with Prince's talent, it's Julieta Venega.



Right now, Julieta Venegas is on heavier rotation than Mika.

Reading Snack

I know, being a country cousin and living in Switzerland shields me from quite some terrible things out there in the world. However, sometimes I leave this Garden of Eden where milk and honey flows and I have to face the world.

This morning, I almost let drop my coffee and muffin when I spotted this on Glasgow airport:



Yes, it's a book vending machine. Those things might be common at your sort of place. And you might think that this must be serendipity for somebody with an addiction to all printed matter. Nevertheless, for me, it was quite a dystopian experience.

Until the end of June, Switzerland's book shops were bound by a book price trust. That means that until the federal court broke the trust, competition via price was prohibited. Of course, we were paying far too much for the books, but we still have a wide variety of book shops were the staff actually knows what they are selling and can give competent recommendations.

But now I've seen Switerland's future. Thank you federal court. Will we soon can buy justice too like books, chips and soda at a vending machine?

Complete Indulgence

Roman poet Juvenal is supposed to have said that rare indulgence creates greater pleasure. Knowing what rare food Cervelat would soon be, we went this lunch for a Sausage Cheese and Avocado salad.



We accompanied the salad with a Cidre Bouché from renowned calvados and cider producer Etienne Dupont from the Normandie. A splendid choice with amber colour and a refreshing balance between bitterness and acidity. This was what Juvenal must have had in mind.

Swiss Banger Crisis

This morning I fell almost out of bed when I was reading today's newspaper. Cervelat, the most popular Swiss sausage may run out of production because Brazil does not care enough about BSE *take deep breath*.



Almost a quarter of all sausages made in Switzerland are Cervelats. A key element of a sausage is the casing. In the case of Cervelat this is especially critical, because they can be roasted, fried, boiled or eaten raw. Only cows of Brazil and Paraguay are equipped with the high quality intestines which fulfil the though requirements.

Right now the European borders are closed for Brazilian beef products and the remaining stock in the Swiss warehouses can hardly supply this year's barbecue season. To make matters worse, Paraguay is reorganising its administration and hence no intestines can be sent to Switzerland. Hello gauchos, sort that mess out quickly!

Talking about intestines needed for Swiss sausages: Wieners are filled in Persian sheep intestines. For the Bratwursts, the ones of Chinese pigs are used. Those are ripped out of the body and not cut out with an air knife like in Switzerland. Ripping makes the texture smother. Both China and Iran are not the most stable places in the world. I fear we will face a lot more trouble with our sausages.

Wonderjock

Toño wants to be louder and prouder this summer. He covets aussieBum's new WONDERJOCK pouch technology swimmwear. It's supposed to enhance his natural assets, flaunt his stuff, make him feel proud and have fun on the beach this summer.



I have no idea what there is still to be enhanced and I loath sandy beaches. Nevertheless, feel free to send him a pair (Size S). Unfortunately for Toño, they are not available in orange. However, he would humbly accept a pair in black.

Avow Yourself!

This Saturday, Zürich was celebrating the Christopher Street Day. The turnout was excellent, despite the nasty weather. Never came so many people. This is good. We had to show that we can't condone the behaviour of the police in recent months (read more).



This was Toño's first demonstration ever and he seemed to have enjoyed it. We first planed only to listen to the speeches before the march, but it just grabbed us.

Other stuff what we've been up to this weekend is singing Karaoke with our swim buddies, joining a country festival to please a colleague of Toño and dining under the cherry trees at the birthday brunch of a dear friend of ours, besides of listening to Mika, of course.

"Everybody's Gonna Love Today"

I tried to resist, but I failed completely. I just love Mika's brand spanking new record. Today, it's already on its fifth rotation. I can't explain it but it seems all right to be flamboyant right here and right now. Have a flabbergastingly flamboyant weekend, you're gonna love it!

Fior Di Latte

Toño has secretly sneaked into a Coop to get my a splendid surprise:



Fior di latte (literally milk's flower) is pure unflavored ice-cream made of high quality whole milk, lots of fresh cream and sugar. The Italians are the unchallenged masters of this kind of ice-cream.

Nevertheless, I first had had this kind of ice-cream in Moscow, where you can buy it for little money at every street corner. Even during winter. Also the Russinas have the most beautiful name for ice-cram. They call it Мороженое.

Epically Classical

Mr.Mac has brought me a copy of the TV series Rome, which was a brilliant idea *patting Mr.Mac's shoulder* I like it. As chance would have it, I was reading two books about that period.

The first was Imperium by Robert Harris. Yes, it's a typical Robert Harris. I leave it with that.

Another calibre is The Classical World: An Epic History from Homer to Hadrian by Robin Lane Fox.



Historians might gripe about one or the other detail. However, I'm none of them and highly enjoyed the read. I'm now also updated about the importance of buggery in the various phases of the Classical World. Just in case time travel will ever make headway.

Filthy And Far From Gorgeous

I work for a defense contractor, which has a mainly male and over-aged workforce. That's usually not a big problem. However, there is a bit of a sticky issue: filthy toilets.

I will not blame my caring employer. They try their best to to keep them clean, however, they should get some support from the workforce.

I blame the family values for the disgraceful state. Lots of our employees still live in the standard family form, with a wife at home that cleans after them. Well they should bring them along, shouldn't they.

PS: And they barely shave. There are always pubic hairs all over the place.

High-Flyer

So far this year, the best page-turner was Der Swissair-Prozess by Constantin Seibt.



As the title might give away, this book is written in German. I doubt that it will ever be translated to English, Russian or what else might be out there. Who else than the Swiss is interested in the hopeless attempt to demand accountability for the biggest bankruptcy in Switzerland's history and the collapse of the flying bank called Swissair. Ignorance and arrogance are just not covered by the law books.

But why do I recommend the book anyway? It's written by Constantin Seibt, the most brilliant living Swiss Journalist. Think of the verve of a teenage Julie Burchill combined with versatile mind of Cicero. Constantin Seibt is one of the few reasons to still read the Tages Anzeiger, a daily newspaper from Zurich with rather little editorial spine.

As I said, the subject is boring. However, Constantin Seibt made me read almost every paragraph twice. If there is one reason to improve your German, it's Constantin Seibt 's eloquence.

El Cielo Dividido

The second film by Mexican cinematographer Julián Hernández has been released on DVD. The first was Mil nubes de paz cercan el cielo, amor, jamás acabarás de ser amor (A Thousand Clouds of Peace Fence the Sky, Love; Your Being Love Will Never End) and won the 53rd Berlinale. It was a touching portrait of a young man yearning for love - a theme we all are far too familiar with (see trailer).

The new one is called El Cielo Dividido (Broken Sky). It's again an epic picture with minimized plot and dialogues of young men oppressed by love-longing. Don't expect a film - El Cielo Dividido is more like a dance.

Deflowered

I heard the first time of Pedro Almodóvar in the week of 22 June 1987 in the German magazine DER SPIEGEL in an article with the headline 'Darling Scumbag'. It was less the headline and the fact that they called him scandal director than the touching still of two bollock-naked men closely entangled in bed shot from the ceiling that the article cought my eye and burned itself into my memory for good. Of course, I had to see La ley del deseo - the law of desire - and every other film Pedro Almodóvar made ever since.



Yesterday, we saw La ley del deseo again. It still has not lost any of its disturbing power.

Be Prepared

Forget about pink dollar. The big money lies in the fleur-de-lis and the trefoil, the symbols of the Scout Movement, which was founded only a hundred years ago by Robert Baden-Powell.

This was also the reason that the Swiss Post issued a special stamp on May 10. A mere week later, I tried to buy some at my local post office: Sold out!. Ok, I tried the online shop: Not listed anymore!.

It's a shame, the Swiss Post was not prepared and missed the opportunity. But even worse, I was also not prepared for the incredible purchasing power of Swiss' Boy and Girl Scouts.

Sweet Fith Column

Switzerland's biggest retailer Migros is putting my love-hate relationship to them again on an acid test. They just don't want give up and, I have to admit, they've resorted to a quite cunning plan.

Their demigod founder Gottlieb Duttweiler prohibited the sale of tobacco and alcohol. Migros deceived this behest a long time ago by selling the condemned products via their subsidiaries. I've somehow learned to live with that.

However, Migros's infamy has reached a new climax. They sell now alcohol in their own store under their own brand, cunningly disguised as ice cream:



Marc de Champagne is a colourless brandy that is produced by distilling the grape skins, seeds and stalks, which are left from the pressing process in the first stages of Champagne production.

Marc de Champagne is delicious and so is the ice cream Migros made of it. But how am I supposed to enjoy such a blatant breach of basic ethics?

Back In Zwingli's Merciless Claws

Zürich has long been a stronghold of Zwingli's Spirit. Zwingli was the leader of the Protestant Reformation in Zürich. For non locals, 'Zwingli's Spirit' can be summarised as narrow-minded and hostile to all pleasures.

There was a weak flicker of hope when the dance prohibition on major religious holidays was abolished in 2001. But the pendulum is swinging back heavily. This time not lead by a religious zealot, far worse, by the Social Democratic Party's representatives in Zürich's city government (for Americans: this party is far left of the persons you call Liberals).

One of them, Martin Waser, has prohibited restaurants to use lounge furniture in open-air areas. It's now against the law to sit confortably in the sun while sipping a Mai Tai.

Even worse is the female representative Esther Maurer. She heads the police department and is on a crusade against gay clubbing and gay lifestyle. The police is raiding gay clubs (obviously people consume drugs in such places), strip search visitors of gay clubs on the street (including lifting the testicles, because it's a known drug hiding place), and closing down gay clubs or at least their darkrooms (sex in restaurants is against the law). What does it care the police or anyone, when adults have consensual sex, enjoy themselves and don't harm anyone at all?

Both are former teachers. They just haven't learned that they don't deal with defenceless kids anymore.

However, far the worst is that I gave those maniacs my vote. I (and hopefully everybody else) will not do it again. It's time the Social Democratic Party eats dust.

The Power of Flowers

I hardly watch any telly since mine broke 1992. However yesterday, I got an eye full and was amazed by the disarming brutality of this ad:

100 Years Birchstrasse 155

Today, we proudly celebrated the 100 year anniversary of the premises where I work.



We can't say that we celebrate the 100 year anniversary of my caring employer. Things were not that easy in such a disrupted period like the last century, where companies are bought out, taken over, merged, spin off or sold almost faster than a straight man can change his underwear (The Gays™ are still a bit ahead).

On the 8th of May 1907, the Schweizerische Werkzeugmaschinenfabrik Oerlikon (SWO) (Swiss Machine Tool Factory Oerlikon) opened its doors. It had acquired the machinetool division of the Maschinenfabrik Oerlikon (MFO) (Machinery Manufacturing Company Oerlikon)*.

So everything started with a classical spin-off. Many more of such events happened. Nowadays many companies claim this event the foundation stone of their existence. They may do whatever they like. We did not care and celebrated voluptuously.

* See here a report on the park that was built in the memory of this company and is hence called MFO Park (and not birdcage as some might claim).

Passion Knows No Limits

We're back from Sicer, the quality Cider* exhibition in Asturia (Spain). It was an experience out of this world.

Yes, I'm talking about cider. That cider should ever come to be associated with the word quality is perhaps the most baffling element regarding a drink once known affectionately as tramp juice. I had expected a lot, but my pants were beaten off. There are no known limits how cider can taste.

Of course there was the rough Asturian Sidra Natural, which is served at every corner in this area (see here how Asturian cider has to be poured that it develops its full potential).



Also the other well know cider regions, the Normandy and south west England sent ardent representatives of this old trade. But the colour came from countries like Japan, Mexico, U.S. of A., Italy, Germany, Switzerland, and Canada.

The most flabbergasting discovery came from Quebec were they have developed Cidre de Glace (literally ice cider). In this case, the apples are naturally frozen either before or after harvest. It was hard to believe that this elixir is based on apples.

And yes, we were in Spain, and yes, they know how to to raise your expectation regarding stupendous dinners.



One should never miss the opportunity to mingle with people who are absolutely passionate about what they do.

* Just to make things clear. The British term cider is what Americans call hard cider. American cider is what the British call apple juice. I use cider in the British manner.

Getting A Bit Of Cider

We are off to Spain. Asturias to be precise. We will visit SICER the first international trade fair for quality cider.



We will be back in a week...

Early Bird

It's only April but I've already found the salad that correlates just perfectly with the vibes of this summer:



It's roasted Buckwheat on a bed of freshly cut Mango with a Grape Pip Oil Vinaigrette. Preparations take less than half an hour and it tastes superbly refreshing.

I still suffer from an overdose of mango pulp, which I received in the summer of 1980. I usually turn away in disgust from anything remotely mango like. However, this is different and I absolutely love it.

Summer May Come

You thought this was bad?



It's getting worse!



Yes, we bought ourselves some brand spanking new matching plimsolls.

I loath shopping clothes. Buying shoes is even worse. But the ultimate torture is buying summer shoes. However, we somehow managed to buy these lovely pairs within 5 minutes between a latte and jumping onto a train. We tried them on and kept them on. My old ones landed in the next trash bin.

We went for Navyboots. We've cast a covetous eye on them for quite some time. Finally yesterday, we seize the day.

I love all about them. How they gently hold my food, how the texture of the canvas pleases both body and eye, and specially the tag line on the tongue: produced to fit feet in action. And last but not least, we received the best give-away you could wish for on a hot spring summer day: bottled Navyboot mineral water.

My Fine Food Brother

It's hard to bury the hatchet, but I might have to change my views on Swiss supermarket chain Coop and their Fine Food product group (read about digging up the hatchet).

How could events evolve that far? Everything has started at my clan's residence:



Here lives my brother, who happens to be a farmer. Besides of producing milk, he grows all kind of crops, such as apples, tobacco, sugar beets, wheat, corn, potatoes, and gherkins. Actually he is among the last four (4!) Swiss gherkin farmers. He was close to give up this labour intensive product, when last year Chirat, one of the two pickle producers in Switzerland, decided to use only foreign gherkins and the other factory could not make up his mind.

But imagine, an odious retailer like Coop comes as the white knight in shining armour and saves this old trade. Starting this summer, original Swiss gherkins will only be available as Fine Food Gherkins. I might have to alter my shopping and occasionally denigrating behaviour a tiny little bit.

Time for Bruce

I live in a tenement building at the edge of Zürich. It's a nice place, although our area has had the reputation of being probably the most boring place of town. But that is over, thanks to a shocking teenage gang rape case we are now the synonym for urban street credibility. I fear the rents will go up in due course with all the trendy folks flooding in due to the newly gained reputation.

As I said, it's a nice place, despite the close airport, seven railway lines in close range, tram turning place in hearing range, open air traditional folk music on early Sundays mornings from the restaurant nearby and the noisy allotment gardeners. There is lots of green in my view, grocery shops are in walking distance and my neighbors are nice (almost deaf or extremely tolerant).

The only problem is the lacking patio. Where do you want to make a proper barbecue?

But there is hope, as my dear friend Tina has informed me:



This balcony barbecue grill is called Bruce. It looks a bit silly, but what a name. I immediately think sweat-stained die-hard style wifebeater. The perfect setting for dead meat roasting on hot coals. There is only one problem. You can't drink wine to meat grilled on something called Bruce.

[Get Bruce]

Bellyaching Weekend

We've just faced another of theses perfect weekends with warm but not hot temperatures and almost never ending sun. My plants on the balcony are sprouting like there is no tomorrow. It was one of those weekends that shouts at you: Get up! Get out! Enjoy me! And what was I doing? Bellyaching every bleeding day of it.

It started early Friday evening. A pain was building up in my abdomen. Slightly but steadily. It was at it worst between 10pm and 2 am. I took a painkiller and sipped tea but it seemed not to have any effect.

In the morning after I finally found some sleep. My stomach still ached but not that bad. My health insurance has this call service where you can consult a doctor. I was not the only one who was seeking advice. I took more than an hour until the telephone doctor called back. I explained the nature of my pain and he advice me to see a doctor immediately, because it could be my heart!

Of course, I obeyed and rushed with my caring Toño at my side to a doctor that is open even on weekends. Again, I was not the only one in pain. The waiting time lasted two hours. The nice female GP took it again very seriously, touched me all over my belly and asked for my blood and urine. After they drained both of my arms and my pee shines did not get in the way, she presented me the results: every thing is fine (even my heart), only a value called C-reactive Protein (CRP) indicates inflammatory disease. She reckoned I could be experiencing a beginning Appendicitis and referred me to the hospital.

With a letter in my hand and Toño at my side, I drove by tram and bus to the hospital where I was put in a cubical and given one of this hospital shirts without spine coverage. The doctors were all good looking, made a competent impression and made again lots of test. I learned that my stomach, pancreases, gall bladder, normal bladder, both kidneys, intestine and liver seem all in perfect health. They could not entirely rule out the Appendicitis, but claimed that I look a bit too healthy for that sort of thing. Because they found no better explanation, they reckoned it could also be a Gastroenteritis, despite the missing diarrhoea and vomiting.

However, I did not complain and went home with a full day of medical experience to stay the rest of the weekend mostly in a horizontal position and endure the bellyaching of unclear origin. All the time Toño took perfect car of me, except when he put the hot chilli pepper in the oatmeal soup. I have to agree, it gave it the extra touch and I can highly recommend it, when the belly is far from aching.

Super Ready/Fragmenté

Today, The Young Gods released their new album Super Ready/Fragmenté. It's again a flabbergasting experience that pushes the edge of the envelope. It's my new drug.

[check out the songs]

Tasting Spring

I almost gave up on Migros, my favorite grocery store. Innovation seemed to have dried out. They kept repeating themselves. But just before Easter I discovered that Migros have resurrected themselves by butting the brand spanking new Spring Season Yogurts on the shelfs:



Still disappointing, though, is that they are not able to spell strawberry in German. It's Erdbeer, stupids. Never mind, what really counts is, how they taste:

Strawberry and Lemon Balm
Very refreshing. The strawberry flavour is subtle and well bonded with the bitter-fresh lemon balm. Uplifting as spring should be.

Elderberry Flowers
Tastes like Flauder and nothing else. One dimensional, boring and far too sweet.

Rhubarb
Also very refreshing. The acidity of the rhubarb is well bound with the yogurt. Even better than my rhubarb cake.

Nueva Helvetia Is Calling

I just has been confirmed that Toño and I will go to California* in July to participate in a Quinceañera, the most important day in the life of a Mexican woman besides of her wedding. We are very exited! Californians, put away the hippies, we are coming!



Wow, this year, we will cover 18 time zones.

* Nueva Helvetia in Spanish, meaning "New Switzerland", was a Mexican-era California settlement (read more)

Happy Fecundate Resurrection Day

If you're neither an Easter Bunny, Easter Egg nor a tender Easter Lamb, I wish you a happy and fecundate Resurrection Day.

(Click to enlarge)

Otherwise, I'm probably to late anyway.

Late Bloomer

To be honest, I think I've never cooked fish in my entire life* until today. Although we did not obey Lent, we tried to be good Christians by eating fish on Good Friday**



I decided to go for local perch (perca fluviatilis) on an onion and orange bed. It was surprisingly easy. I definitely have to pay more attention to the fish counter in the future.



* Expect some trout grilling as a boy scout on the open fire.
** We obeyed only an lacto-ovo vegetarian diet today, which I think is within the Christian tradition, isn't it? Butter isn't. But can one cook without it? No way. I think beaver would have been allowed too (thanks to Pierre-Francois-Xavier Charlevoix), but they are so hard to find.

Powerful With Style

The BBC claims that front crawl is the fastest stroke and gives you the feeling of being powerful in the water. Sadly, I can only emphasize the section gives you the feeling. I heavily neglected both swimming and cycling in the first quarter of the year I will turn forty. Things have to change big time and fast. This evening we have swimming class again and I haven't done a single stroke since last week's class.

Now it's too late to practice in the water, hence I've decided to get some style inspiration by the best, since not only in swimming, the perfect style is the key to success.

Ian Thorpe



Alexander Popov



Mark Foster

We Were Scissor Sisters

I'm happy to tell that Ms.Mac recovered just in time and showed up with the perfect boots to shake to Scissor Sisters' tunes.



We could not have asked for a more pleasant company to groove.

On The Prowl

My former flatmate and former labour union activist Tigresa is heavily on the prowl. When she's not shopping at Walmart in Atlanta (1 watch for 4$ and a float bag for further trips to Siberia), she's supervising the movement of a fridge in the Swiss mountains in a centers for Girl Guides and Girl Scouts. I reckon, Tigresa still has many surprises in store. We are happy to receive word.

Lack of Spice?

As revealed yesterday, Zurich, Geneva, Vienna, Vancouver, and Auckland remain the top scoring cities on Mercer's Quality of Living index. Flipping through the survey, I found some fine print at the bottom, showing that there might be an other side of the medal:

Quality of Living vs. the quality of life

The Quality of Living index is based on several criteria used to judge whether an expatriate is entitled to a hardship allowance. A city with a high Quality of Living index is a safe and stable one, but it may be lacking the dynamic je ne sais quoi that makes people want to live in world-renowned cities such as Paris, Tokyo, London or New York. Sometimes you need a little spice to make a city exciting. But that "spice" may also give a city a lower ranking.

What makes one person's quality of life better or worse cannot be quantified in an objective index. Therefore, Mercer's Quality of Living report reflects only the tangible aspects of living in a city on expatriate assignments, and leaves the question of the quality of one's life to those living it!

Fasten Your Stockings, Please!

There is only a week left till Easter and it's about time to produce some of those Easter Eggs that even Martha Stewart made green with envy.



All it takes is:

• sufficient white eggs
• grasses and herbs
• onion skins
• a dash of vinegar
• fully-fashioned stockings
• thread
• a big pan

Cut the stockings into squares. Take one and place it flat onto the table. Choose some leaves and place them nicely on the piece of stoking. Take an egg, put it onto the leaves and wrap the stocking carefully around the egg. Fasten the stocking really tight with a thread.



Put the onion skins and the eggs in a big pan with enough cold tap water to cover completely by 1 inch. Add a dash of vinegar. Bring to a rolling boil over high heat. Once the water is brought to a rolling boil, promptly reduce heat to a lower medium boil and cook an additional 10 minutes for a "hard boiled" Easter Egg.



Remove from heat and immediately place eggs under ice cold water or in a bowl of iced water to chill promptly to help yolks stay bright yellow. Chill for a few minutes in the cold water until the egg is completely cooled.

Now you can cut open the stockings and the absolutely naturally coloured eggs reveal their beauty.

(click to enlarge)

Enjoy them within a fortnight. If you don't shock cool them, they will stay fresh for a month but will be harder to peal. The onion skin brew can be reused several times. Just let it cool down and start again.

The Fall of Man

Migros is Switzerland's biggest retailer. This year, it's customer loyalty scheme Cumulus is celebrating its tenth anniversary with a Rolling Stones concert exclusively for its Cumulus members.

Yesterday, I reported this to Ms. Mac, who is - contrary to me - a Cumulus member. She replied:

That's a bit exciting, isn't it? Sadly, even though I'm a card carrying
member of Migros Cumulus, I never really shop in there so there will be
little chance of me winning any tickets.
Why are you not a Cumulus member?

Well, because Cumulus is just another blatant violation of the principles of Migros founder Gottlieb Duttweiler.



For the ones who are not that familiar with the history of Migros and Gottlieb Duttweiler, I have to get a bit verbosely:

Die history of Migros is a real adventure and the most felicitous example of creative imagination, guts, and subversion Switzerland has ever seen. The fight started right at the beginning, when Gottlieb Duttweiler began in 1925 with 6 products and 5 Ford trucks, which he converted into rolling shops. The small shop owners bait the police on him, factories refused to deliver supplies, and the Swiss Parliament passes in 1934 a special Migros bill to prohibit the opening of branches.

Duttweiler found ways to bypass the bill to open branches, agitated, founded his own newspaper and political party, and built own factories to get supplies. The success of Migros is the success against the cumulative resistance of the entire Swiss business and political establishment.

Absolutely unique was that he reserved a percent of the turnover to support the arts and culture, and that he refused to sell tobacco and alcohol. He definitely reached the apex of subversion when he gave away his empire to his customers in 1941. You can't buy or sell Migros, unless its customers agree. Migros is working outside of the classical business world.

So why do I refuse to become a Cumulus member? Duttweiler biggest opponents where the small shop owners, who tried to justify their high prices with incentives such as trading stamps. Duttweiler promised his customers fair prices without hidden discounts. For me, there is not much difference between a trading stamp and Cumulus points.

But Ms.Mac, if you really want so rock with those old men, Toño and I will shop on your Cumulus account, despite the heretical aspect of the entire scheme.

Undefined Fine Food

If there is something one is not supposed to pinch pennies about, it's cheese. Money spent on good quality cheese is hardly ever wasted. Of course, we all have our cheese dealer of trust, but we are also hard-working members of our society, and hence not always able to walk this extra mile. Fortunately, ordinary supermarkets started to introduce fine food products on their shelves, which they call Sélection or - to keep things simple - Fine Food, such as Coop does.

The other day, Toño had to make a such compromise. However, he did well by choosing Coop's Brie from the Kartause Ittingen, a former monastery of the Carthusian order.



As a so called company with a social conscience, Coop tries to justify the immorally exuberant price with a lavish packaging and a booklet, which praises the heritage of the cheese and its special position in the pantheon of food.

The booklet also mentioned that the cheese is at its best in both texture and flavour three weeks after production. Of course, I immediately checked the wrapper. But all I could find, was the latest date of sale and the one for consumption.

For heaven's sake! How I'm supposed to determine the climax of the cheese based on this flawed information?

Of course, I contacted Coop's customer service. They promptly asked back for the exact dates printed on package, but remained silent ever since. This was more than three weeks ago. We are now definitely beyond the pinnacle of both the cheese and a decent customer service.

Mashed Up Saturday

I have to admit that I usual prefer remixes to original tracks. Thus I had a fabulous time over at VJ Jaren. He rocks by letting The Killers' "Somebody Told Me" go with "Rock the Casbah" by The Clash. He moves by melting Kanye West's "Gold Digger" with Walter Murphy's disco floor-filler "A Fifth of Beetoven". He shakes my booties by crossing Missy Elliot's "I'm realy hot" with The Cure's "Hot Hot Hot!!!". He fuses Madonna's "Hung Up" & VHS or BETA's "Night on Fire" to a boiling track. And yes, I just can't get enough of this music:

Last Tantrum

Yes, it's spring, but winter just does not give in.



If you have no idea what this is: front wheel and front gear box of my bicycle and my left foot on the pedal (from left to write).

Home Sweet Home

Bangalore is over. I'm back home in my lover's arms, after beavering away for nine days (no weekends whatsoever). The next trip to India will hopefully not be before the end of monsoon - to bohemian Mumbai to go sailing.



For Indian standards, Bangalore has a very pleasant climate with no extremes. At this time of the year, the locals celebrate Ugadi, literally - the start of an era. Lots of trees are blossoming now. One feels like in the middle of a rainbow.

As I said, we had hardly any time to enjoy this. We even almost mist the plane, because of work and last minute curtsey calls to some top brass, which lead us into middle of rush hour. But somehow we - that is our driver - managed to sneak out of the congestion and we arrived at the airport* in the nick of time.

* Our caring employer booked us coach (!) for the domestic leg. Did you know that on Jet Airways only business class passenges get a life vest? Coach is supposed to use the seat pad a floating support.

David

How was your afternoon? Was it sweet, passionate and lyrical? Neither was mine. Actually, mine was quite a waste. However, just by accident, I passed by this beautifully made movie by the gifted Mexican cineasta Roberto Fiesco Trejo. A man, I will keep an eye on.

If you wasted your afternoon too, these 15 minutes will be well spent:

David (2005)

Enological India

Today's Times of India featured an article on the prospects of Wine Tourism in the region of Bangalore. I would not have put my money on that.

When I came to India for the first time (this must have been 7 years ago), I soon learned to keep my distance to wine. The imported one was heavily overloaded with taxes and the local ones were directly derived from Château Migraine.

If this idea of Wine Tourism is not blatant dupery, things must have changed. Indians are not not only buying wineries around the globe, they also invest in the local production. The local leader in Bangalore seem to be the Glovers.

Maybe, I really should take Toño along next time. There is more to discover in India than one might expect.

Wine Tourism
by Rakesh Prakash
The Times of India, 12 Mar, 2007

BANGALORE: Karnataka is all set to go the California way — it will welcome tourists with wine. The state government, in its soon-to-be-announced wine policy, has planned to chase its dollar dreams by giving thrust to wine tourism. A green signal to this effect was given by the cabinet last week.

"Tourists can stroll through picturesque vineyards and be a part of the wine-making process. They can also buy fresh wine," horticulture department sources said.

Similar tours are conducted in California's Napa Valley and New Zealand. Other cities promoting wine tourism are Melbourne, Bordeaux (France), Cape Town and Florence.

Karnataka has already set the stage for promoting wine tourism. Grapes are grown in nearly 9,700 hectares across the state; the annual production being 1.67 lakh tonnes.The grape-growing districts of Bangalore (Urban and Rural) and Kolar — called Nandi Valley — and those of Bijapur, Bagalkot and Belgaum — Krishna Valley — will be promoted in a major way, horticulture minister Shashikanth Akkappa Naik said. Even the high-end domestic tourists will be tapped for this.

The government hopes wine tourism will be a hit, particularly in the serene Krishna Valley. "Bijapur and Belgaum are heritage centres, and since they are close to Goa, a lot of tourists flock there. Now, wine tours will be an added attraction," sources added. Apart from increasing grape cultivation, the government wants to encourage more wineries.

It plans to declare wine-production units as foodprocessing industry and extend necessary concessions. Further, the licence-issuing procedure will be relaxed — no longer will winery owners run to the excise department for licences, instead they can obtain the same from respective deputy commissioners. That too within 30 days of submitting an application.

Back Again

It's only March and I'm already the third time in Asia and the second time parted from deriously beloved Toño by my caring employer. I terribly miss him.

Yes I'm back in India, enjoying the favorite Indian past time: traffic jams and cricket. It can be combined, when emotions are high on the eve of the Cricket World Cup:

Only Yodeling Was Not Required

Finally some good news: Toño was granted Swiss citizenship yesterday evening! The process of naturalization is not yet completed, but from now on it's only long-winded bureaucratic paper shoveling. However, Toño's office pals couldn't wait till then and already equipped him with the bare Swiss essentials.



We Swiss like to do things our way. That's why we have a triple level citizenship (Confederation, canton and community). Every Swiss is a citizen of his/her place/community of origin, his/her canton of origin and the Confederation, in this order: a Swiss citizen is defined as someone who has the citizenship of a Swiss municipalities (art. 37 of the Swiss Federal Constitution).

The procedure to obtain it is rather tedious. After filling endless forms and questionaries, Toño had to wait several months, until he was invited to a course on Swiss history and political system.

The mayor and his associates of the town government summoned him to a test on the subjects taught before. But what did they know themselves? It was Toño who had to tell them that the opera by Rossini on William Tell is far better that the play by Schiller.

After some further waiting, Toño was summoned to an interview with a commission of the town parliament. They wanted to find out how well Toño has integrated himself into Swiss behavior and social structure. He could shut them up by explaining that he cooks according to the recipes of Le Menu, a publication of the Swiss dairy farmers (they really asked about his diet).

Finally, yesterday evening, there was the big vote in the town parliament. From 38 possible votes, Toño received 28, 9 abstained (cowards!), and a bloke of the right wing Swiss People's Party said no to him. How could he, even the lady from the far-right Swiss Democrats with the bad hairdo could not resist his charm. Who cares. It's done, if no one of his (soon to be) fellow citizens raises an objection within 20 days.

At Our Lake

Experiencing the perfect spring Sunday, Toño and I made a brief walk to our brand spanking new lake (remember?) that was built literally in our backyard.



It is 500 metres long and most of its northern shore is a sandy beach. Guess were we will be, when spring has been replaced by summer.

Talking about seasons. We are back from the perfect winter exploitation in Siberia. I have already and will in due course release detailed reports on this blog on all our adventures. The diary will also posted on Through the Northern Pole of Cold.