Getting Pissed By Entire Italy

Well so far, the conference was not that exiting, however, I got sufficient wine.



At lunch I shared the first bottle with two Spanish exhibitors.



Then early evening, my boss and a colleague of mine arrived and we went for an apéritif to a local bar. There are plenty of bars in Genoa, however, it turned out to be difficult to find a decent restaurant. With the help of another barkeeper, we found a small seafood restaurant. They did not have a written menu and none of us speaks any Italian. We just nodded and grunted somewhere in the list the waiter was reciting and got some delicious dishes which we washed down with plenty of wine.

The one for dinner was a Lagrein form Alto Adige. The one for dinner was a Nero d'Avola from Sicily. This means that I manged to get pissed within a few hours by entire Italy.

Finding Bristol Palace

I'm in Genoa to attend a conference on maritime systems and technology.

I arrived yesterday evening, and of course, had all the details on how to get from the train station to the hotel printed out. Who was I to know that Genoa has got 2 main train stations, Principe and Brignole? Needless to say that I left the train on the one which was not on my map.

Nothing fitted. Instead of a brief stroll, I was wandering along countless splendid palazzi and working girls for 100 minutes until I reached Hotel Bristol Palace. Although travelling light, I was completely soaked.



Why I did not take a taxicab? I loath sitting in a taxi on my own and I loath taxi drivers. I should have brought Toño along. He is a) the best company imaginable and b) he speaks Italian.

Sunday Roast

Last weekend was so cliché November. The flurries on Friday were fun but then it turned wet and stormy. So it was far from odd that we made a Sunday Roast.

The starter was a beet root soup with horseradish cream.



For the main course, we went for a tender veal roast, which Toño marinated with honey, lemon zest and rosemary.



Toño roasted it at low temperature for 2.5 hours in the oven. Meanwhile, he severely cut his finger while chopping the beet root, which let to major confusion. However, somehow, the side dishes made it on the plates anyway.



Well for desert, we went then for something a bit more basic.

On The Wagon

Toño and I are in deep trouble. Our wine cellar is almost completely dried-out.



But it's autumn and Zürich has this wine fair called Expovina, which is located on 12 ships on the lake of Zürich. Toño has to be there quite often to represent his caring employer, i.e. Toño works in the wine business. Hence last Saturday, he received the task to get us a.s.a.p. off the waggon again.

He ordered 6 bottles of each wine:

1. Châteauneuf-du-Pape "Fiancée" Domaine La Barroche, 2004
2. Château Sainte Eulalie "La Cantilène" Minervois, 2005
3. Mas du Soleilla Les Chailles, 2005
4. Domaine des Soulanes Jean Pull, 2005
5. Dominio de Atauta Cosecha, 2003
6. Torresilo Cosecha 2005
7. Finca Terrerazo Cosecha - Tierra de Terrerazo 2004
8. El Perro Verde, Rueda DO, 2006
9. Murice Grianza, 2003
10. Cantos de Valpiedra Cosecha, 2005
11. Lanzaga Cosecha, 2004
12. Las Rocas Cosecha - Calatayud DO, 2005
13. Norton Privada, 2004
14. Weinert Malbec, 2003
15. Enrique Foster Malbec Reserva, 2004
16. Perdriel Single Vineyard, 2004

I reckon, this should bring us through the next three months.

Lick This Bag

Steve Jobs is supposed to have said You know a design is good when you want to lick it. I'm currently licking Monocle's Overnight Bag:



It's made by Porter in Tokyo. The bag comes with a laundry bag, a pouch for toiletries and pouch to store a bag when you get back to your pied-à-terre.

Datating the Criticity of Planification

A former boss of mine just had to endure a meeting with some French blokes. Here an extract of his informal report:

Anyway, we like to poke fun at the Indians for their sometimes strange English ("prepone" etc) ... they are but beginners compared to the French.

New Franglais classics include :
- "Datation" : which I understand means something like the process of Time Stamping
- "Criticity" : I guess priority

and as absolute winner
- "Planification"

Cover Boy

My deriously beloved Toño's picture is featured on a magazine cover:



Toño's wearing a Hanro T-Shirt and a Dockers Shirt. Grooming by Figaro Coiffeure Alex Schulzke.

Vogue Hommes will be next.

Milk from Grass

I don't know if other cultures reached such refined levels as well, but the Danish have choices of milk, I've never seen before:



On the left, you can see standard milk. Available in various shades of fat. On the right, you can see milk produced by cows, which grassed on a meadow. How inovative is that. They can even charge more for this special kind of milk.

Harbour Bath

København has this amazing bath in the harbour I heard so much about. The last time I was in København, I spent an entire Sunday looking for it. Well today I learned that I missed it by about 250 meters - i.e. I found it today.



Here are some more pictures of this jewel made of wood.

Of course, I was far too cold to take a dip. However, when I was approaching, there where some young blokes jumping from the stepped tower. They must had a key. When I finally arrived, they were gone and the gate closed. I found the bath but missed the chance to take it.

JDS, one of the architectual teams working on it, are planning a harbour bath for Dublin. This reminds me of favourite book At Swim, Two Boys. And talking of reminders: I'm missing the other one and long for a swim with him.

Shore Leave

The first week of work at sea is over. Yesterday evening, we were brought ashore in a rubber dinghy and drove straight to København, were we checked into a hotel in the heart of the red-light district. How cliché-ridden is that...

Sailing Again

I'm back in Denmark facing two weeks of sea trials. In other words, I'm again parted again from my deriously beloved Toño.

Hot, Safe and Fair

Finally something positive about condoms. Hot Rubber is introducing condoms made of Fair Trade latex.

Now you can shag around* knowing that the fabric saving your health is produced under human working conditions, without exploiting child labour and with the least possible impact on natural resources.



This is my favourite add by Hot Rubber from the late eighties. The tag line reads Who stays over night...

* not that I would do a thing like that...

Spoiled Boys

This summer, I managed to get twice an upgrade to business class on a round trip to Los Angeles for Toño and me.



Well, this weekend I've got my payback.

Toño's caring employer is the organizer of the award show for the cream of the crop of Swiss wines.

Yesterday was the award show, followed by a gala dinner at the 5-star Bellevue Palace in Bern. The dinner went over 5 courses and was accompanied by 10 short-listed wines. Toño did not only manage to get me on the guest list, we also got a complimentary room.

Good Citizen

I've fulfilled my duties as a citizen by sending my ballot on time.

I'd stopped pondering and put first all The Gays™ on my list and stuck then to the closest-match recommendation of the internet. There was one (1) correlation, i.e. on bloke made it twice on my list. To my surprise, my ladies quote is over 50%.

I reckon, I'm not much of a prophet by prognosticating that my ballot will hardly correlate with next parliament.

But till you feed us...

Switzerland, Europe's heart of darkness, is called to the polls in a week. Because I hate to get up early on Sunday mornings, I have to make up my mind now, so that the Swiss snail postal service can bring my vote to the ballot box in time.

Although we can't submit our ballot via the fabulous internet, I used an on-line service to make up my mind. Who wants to be a sheep that let itself influence by election propaganda. It has to be kind of objective. First I had to answer a bunch of questions and was then presented with a spider map, showing my political position.



I could also see where I am standing with respect to the candidates who are running for parliament in my constituency.



As you can see, I'm kind of a tree hugging leftist liberal. My position tells me that I should be a teacher or journalist. Far from it. I develop naval weapon systems. And unfortunately, almost all of the dots surrounding me, support the initiative which wants to prohibit Swiss enterprises to export any defence equipment. Switzerland has no sea. If we can't export, I'm out of work.

What I'm supposed to do? Shall I vote against my attitude or put people into power who want me to lose my job or make me to abandon my ship?

Macheath says in Brecht's Threepenny Opera: You may proclaim, good sirs, your fine philosophy. But till you feed us, right and wrong can wait!

The Next Thing

There is this trend to combine chili with chocolate. Forget it! The truly flabbergasting experience lies in pepper covered with chocolate.



If you put one of these into your mouth, the chocolate melts away, giving you the sweet experience you're expecting. But then, as soon as you bite in the tiny ball, your taste buds are sent into another dimension.

50 Years

I would like to mark the 50-year anniversary of the Sputnik launch with the song Fred vom Jupiter, which always reminds me of the Sputnik telemetry signal.



In less than 4 years we can celebrated another 50-year anniversary.



Gagarin, who is always watching me at work, is patently waiting for that one.

Porcini with Knöpfli

As a tribute to autumn, I went for a porcini dish.



Actually a quite easy one with Knöpfli (or Spätzle).



But because I made everything from the scratch (except grinding the flour) it took quite long. But we don't have autumn every day.

Hard Boiled Cat Pissers

For once, a kitchen experiment failed. I tried to make gape jam, which was not one of my best planed projects. But who was I to know that this is so hard to do?



I used fox grapes (vitis labrusca), which Toño helped me to pick. We Swiss call them also Americano or Chatzenseicheler (cat pissers). These grapes have a distictive taste which make them perfect for jam, but unfortunately, they also have huge pips. I only realised this when I'd finished the first round of jam.

I then decided to pick the pips from the next kilogram of grapes. No pigeons at hand, this Cinderella like task took almost two hours. This can't be the solution. I could make jelly, but I somehow prefer jam to jelly. Any suggestions?

Integral Disco

The Integral video is here...



Now I only have to wait for October 8, when finally Pet Shop Boys' Disco 4 will hit the shelf.

License to Model

My handsome and deriously beloved Toño has not only a license to kiss (only me of course) but also to taste wine, as his latest modeling job shows:



My name is Toño, gomad's Toño

Time For The Frottage

Always when I'm rubbing quinces I realise that summer is definitely over.

15 minutes of fame?

Well I'm the Cookie Bitch of my family but it seems that this starts to pay off or at least that some my cookies get their well deserved 15 minutes of fame.

Vinum, Europe's Wine Magazine, is planing a special on Asti Spumante. This light effervescent wine from Italy's Piedmont region serves well as a dessert wine. Thus Vinum plans to publish recipes of sweets that go well with Asti Spumante.

I've put six of my cookie recipes into the competition for publication, some of which go back to my grand-grandmother.



This week, the specialists went for the tasting for the perfect match. All I know so far is that my angel-like cinnamon stars don't go well with the wine but that others might make it into the magazine. Now I have to wait until November.

¡Feliz cumpleaños, Toño!

On this day in 1967, a beautiful boy was born in Michoacán, México. Fate willed, he camed to Switzerland and he took me into his arms to teach me to love and to enjoy the creature comforts. ¡Feliz cumpleaños, mí Gatín!

Real-Time Window Tracking

Sleepy and Blitz, two friends of mine, are currently crossing Switzerland by running. Think running a bit more than a marathon daily for seven days and you get the picture. Despite this effort, they are also carrying some high-tech GPS gear, which allows us couch potatoes to track them real-time on the internet.



Well this morning, I was sitting in a tram in Zürich on my way to perform some retail therapy when I realised that this week's column by Michèle Roten is rather boring. I stopped reading and glanced through the window. Right in this moment Sleepy and Blitz were jogging by. Sometimes, the internet seems so redundant.

Heracles Was A Sissy

My this week's task was to show that the famous twelve labours of Heracles, the greatest of the heroes in Greek mythology, were a piece of cake - at least compared with my deeds.

My caring employer decided that I have to be a Certified Senior Project Manager. Shiny titles are always tantalising and I let them talk me into going for the cherries. Who was I to know that this was accompanied by quite a catch.

The principle of this certification is that you write a report on how you managed a project. This project will then be assessed by two experts, who will then cross-examine you in a two hour interview. The certification for the Senior version requires a complex, very difficult and challenging project.

All I had at hand was a small project, which performed reasonable well without much efford. However, next week I will have to file my report. So on Monday I started to type my fingers wound. I had to create a legend, how I prevailed in the face of adversity, how I singlehandedly turned a project that was condemned to be a complete mess into a collectable gem, which saved the company from nemesis. Of course every step of the case I built had to be fact-proven. Thank God, there is Tip-Ex, Post-it and Xerox.

Yesterday night I finished my case. I'm worn out. sometimes it's rather strange how we invest our creativity. Next Tuesday, I will file the report and in about two months time I will have a sleepless night before the cross-examination.

By the way, today's Dilbert seems again so appropriate.

Fallen Women

Fallen women rule our life. Only a day after I had finished Tolstoy's Anna Karenina, Toño got himself Flaubert's Madame Bovary.



While my Russian is far too poor to read the great classics, Toño can actually enjoy his book in its original language.

By the way, did you know that Flaubert was duelling Victor Hugo with his Madame Bovary? Read about.

Deflowering Chard

Can you believe this? We've never cooked chard, i.e. not until yesterday. This was clearly a mistake, because chard is mild in taste, rich in calcium, fibre and provitamin A.



We started to cook some pasta. Then we took 4 chard stems and 2 chard leafs, and sliced them separately into small stripes. We stir-fried the sliced stems for about 3 minutes in clarified butter, added the leafs to fry them briefly. Added the zest of a lemon and 3 dl of vegetable tock. Let it cook a bit and added 300 g of sliced chicken breast and 1.8 dl of sauce cream. Boiled it up, and let it simmer for 5-8 minutes until the pasta was al dente. We just used some salt and pepper to season. It takes 30 minutes top and we will do it again.

Fat Chance for Swiss Karma

Staying more than a week on a naval vessel requires also getting done some laundry. At least when you combine the mottoes change daily and keep friends and travel light. Providentially, the vessel was equipped with a big communal laundry room.

We Swiss have a special, not always easy, relation with our communal laundry room. We are devoted tenants and like it scrupulously clean. The combination of both is a source of constant trouble regarding the communal laundry room.

The laundry room on that vessel taught me, how easy things could be. If you filled a machine, you had to choose: Yes, it want my stuff tumble dried or No, I prefer not to. According to your selection, you had to put your personal laundry tag to the Yes or No holder. When the next person came to the machine and your round was finished, he/she could take your clothes out and either put them into a tumbler or into a basket, based on your tagged selection (and also put your tag to the same place). And yes, this system worked just perfectly well, fast and easy.

Why is such a system not applicable for Swiss communal laundry rooms? According to Mr.Mac, it does not work because Swiss don't believe in Karma. It would require to help your neighbour.

Rocky Landing

Luckily the sea calmed down from sea state 3 to 1. This means that we were spared the ride in a rubber boat to get ashore. Although a Venice gondola would have been more romantic, but without lying in Toño's arm, I was more than happy to get a ride in one of those:



I was a bit disappointed when I learned that we can't sit on deck and that we had to fasten the seat belts. However, I soon learned that they can go with 40 knots and that you can ride sharp corners full throttle. Forget roller coasters. This is the real thing to rock and it even brings you ashore.

Heavily Tempted

Finally a day off. The last couple of days, I've been repairing a poxy gun. Although I work in defence, I can hardly tell the difference between a gun and a toaster. And when we are already at comparisons, making a systems engineer fixing a gun is like forcing an architect to fix the plumbing. However, now the bloody thing is ready to pump hot lead again. Thus I could avoided work for today and went (window) shopping in Copenhagen were we happen to be moored right in front of the queen's palace.



I loath shopping, but in Copenhagen things are different, such as more beautifully designed than elsewhere. I spent almost an hour at Illums Bolighus, the unaffordable shrine to Scandinavian design. I'm lucky, I don't live here. I would starve to death just to buy all those lovely things.

Sailing Nation Switzerland

I was standing at the railing of this vessel...



...yes exactly, I was looking out of that rectangular black hole, when a small sailing boat passed and the crew shouted: "Where are you from?" I honestly answered "Switzerland". The crew shouted back "Switzerland? No WHERE ARE YOU FROM?". When will people learn that Switzerland is a sailing nation controlling the Seven Seas?

Many Thanks Indeed

Turning 40 has turned out to be a flabbergasting experience. Many thanks to all of you. I've been showered with well wishes and presents. Especially Toño spared neither trouble nor expense to make this day very special for me. I can really strongly recommend to turn forty. It should happen more often.



Tomorrow, I will fly to Bornholm to board a vessel. The next couple of weeks I will spent sailing in the Baltic Sea. Stabilization tests are scheduled, i.e. the ship will rock 'n' roll on purpose. I hope that at least my stomach will maintain an even keel.

Hoy en la mañanita

This morning I was woken by a lovely tune sung by Pedro Infante:



Besides of being showered with loads of stuff, Toño managed to bring home behind my back such as a painting, fine wine and sweets, a huge bunch of roses and a tender poem.



By the way, our kitchen is lacking Maraschino, Madeira, Sherry and juvenile Port.

Going Off Season

One of my father's favourites is pear bread or Birrewegge as we call it. This is a typical product for long and cold winters, because it's mainly made of dried fruits.

However, it happens that my father's birthday is in July. We brought him a dozen bottles of Moscato d'Asti, but what I really wanted to make is Birrewegge. Well, I did it a few weeks later. But looking at the weather it's not so off season any more.

Everything starts with a contradiction. The dough is a shortcrust yeast version. This is quite a contradiction. One is not supposed to knead a shortcrust dough and it has to rest in the cold. On the other hand, a yeast dough has to be kneaded until the hands really hurt and it has to rest at a warm sport. I decided to start with rubbing butter into the plain flour and continued like it is a yeast dough. The ingredients for the dough are: 1 kg flour, 350 g butter, 3 dl water, 15 g salt, 60 g yeast and 1 egg.



On the previous day, I already put 1 kg of dried pears into a bowl and added to bottles of wine. Toño chose a Petit Verdot by Enrique Mendoza.



The other dried ingredients (125 g pears, 125 g figs, 125 g sultanas, 1 lemon (zest and juice), 125 g walnuts) are finely chopped and blended with the pears and the wine. Add about 5 spoons of calvados or apple pomace.

The right seasoning is very important. In Switzerland, you can buy ready-made Birrewegge condiment. If you want to mix it yourself, use 25 g of cinnamon, 5 g cloves, nutmeg and ginger.



Flatten the dough. Add sufficient filling and roll it tight. Make tiny wholes with a fork all over it and paint it with egg. Bake them at 180°C/356°F for about 45 to 60 minutes.



Enjoy it with Moscato d'Asti or some cheese for desert.

Washed Out

Last year, we had a Coitus Interruptus. This year, we will have not even have the chance to get undressed. Also the third date this year for the official crossing of the lake of Zürich has far too nasty weather and too low water temperatures.



Let's hope for 2nd July 2008.

Conforming

On the eve of the big 4, it kind of seems advisable to get rid of certain elements, which somehow sneaked into my wardrobe.

Fat Chance For A Cold

We completed our Martha Stuart like weekend by making 8 kg of elderberry jam.



If you are prone to catch a cold, I highly recommend to make some elderberry jam now. Make it part of your breakfast routine and you will be save. Elderberry jam is probably the most delicious preventive measure mother nature has kindly given to mankind.

Self-Indulgence

In due course I will turn 40. The church was the first who dared to congratulate me. I call this memento mori. Whatever, I'm not used to celebrate birthdays but I'm used to indulge myself for the occasion.

I can't remember my tenth birthday. For my twentieth, I made a spring-break trip to Florida. For my thirtieth, I bought myself a IWC Mark XII. And I also found myself something for my fortieth - a huge dough bowl to satisfy my baking urges:



It really big, i.e. 37 cm/14.6 in wide and 17 cm/6.7 in deep. You can knead a dough with both hands in it.



I could not wait until my birthday to use it. The first things I made with it were a Swiss and a Russian plaited loaf.

Drained

Smørrebrød is fine, but we had the desire for an alternative. Right next to our hotel in Korsør there was this Chinese.



It's hard to get in. The steps are rather steep. We should have taken this as a warning, spun on our heels and run for Yding Skovhøj.

The restaurant offered à la carte or Mongolian barbecue and Chinese buffet* à discreción. We went for the later combination. While I was waiting for my choice being barbecued the Mongolian way, I rested on a railing. It was hard to get off that thing. It was covered with a greasy layer, which impressed with glutinous qualities.

One could also hardly avoid to be exposed to the exhausts of the barbecuing. Although, I had hung my shirt next to the open window all night, I could turn Toño's stomach topsy-turvy by just bringing it in his vicinity when I came back home.

I had left the place hardly ten minutes, when my body commanded me to the loo to get my intestines drained with a vengeance. This was just the beginning of a rather restless night.

* which included French Fries, a dish I considered being of Belgian origin - just another hint for a fast run.

Smørrebrød Again

I'm back to Korsør...



...in my open air office.



Within the last couple of days, we had all kind of weather besides of a hailstorm (touch wood). There is not much else to do here than working, cursing the weather and eating some smørrebrød three times per day.

However, in the narrow alleys of this small town, I spotted lots of these mirror devices in front of the windows:



People in Korsør seem to like checking the street without leaving the house.