Male: Hello!
Hello, I am Dominik.
And what’s your name?
Female: I am Jacqueline.
Male: Oh, that’s a beautiful name, oh, such a beautiful name!
And what are you studying?
Female: Biochemistry.
Male: Oh, that’s fascinating, how fascinating, fascinating, fascinating. Well, I am studying social… that’s also totally… well… boring.
And, you want to fuck me?
Female: Pardon?
Male: You want to fuck me?
Female: Yes, of course.
Male: Well fine, are we going to my place or yours?
Female: Don’t know.
Male: Well, don’t know either. Perhaps we could… or rather… or rather…no, don’t know.
This post is best read at home an hour before lunch time.
The human mind is at its best when limited to a few ingredients. We don’t cope with infinity that well (I at least). The items available at 11 am were a hungry stomach and green beans (cheap and looking good at the supermarket yesterday), a can of chopped tomatoes (something that I always have in my cupboard), and three beef sausages (from a package of six of which three were wolfed down by little man yesterday).
So I chopped up two small onions and four cloves of garlic to get going. Then my eyes fell upon the blue cast iron casserole I bought at Ikea a few months ago and had never used. It looks exactly like the fancy French casseroles on offer for an insane amount of money, because they are called “Le Creuset”… mine was way cheaper (and I am always drawn to kitchenware that is so heavy that is can double as a defense weapon). What do you cook in a casserole you have never used before? A leftover-stew of course.
I don’t have pictures, but you don’t need them because you have leftovers in your kitchen too, and your tummy is hungry and your mind is racing already. What could I cook for lunch today?
I prepared the green beans for cooking. Fired up the gas stove, heated oil, threw in the onions and garlic, waited until their aroma wafted through the kitchen, then added the can of chopped tomatoes and the beans. Then I added a glass of water, some salt, two dried chilies (because hot is always better), and two bay leaves.
There was not enough fluid in the dish, but an open bottle of red wine in the fridge. In went some wine. You can never go wrong with some wine, especially if you are cooking with a fake “Le Creuset” casserole.
So leftover-stew a la Ikea was well underway, when I thought of the five miniature potatoes that were leftover from a bag of full-sized ones. When I got them out of the fridge, my eyes feel upon the glass jar of foie gras house guest had bought at her stopover in Paris. The proper foie gras is long gone, but the jar still held some leftover goose fat that your doctor tells you to throw away, but is far to fragrant not to use.
I cooked the potatoes in salt water. Chopped up the beef sausages and fried them in goose fat (yeah, I know… cholesterol… heart attack…bla… bla), then added them to the casserole.
When the beans were cooked but not mushy and the sauce had reduced to a yummy goo, the potatoes were ready as well.
There was still fat in the skillet from the goose fat and beef sausage bonanza. If a heart attack, then a proper one. So I fried the potatoes in the leftover fat to yummy crispness.
Lunch was crispy, fragrant potatoes and bean-tomato-sausage stew with a glass of red wine, and it tasted especially good because it was half-hazardly thrown together.
For the New Year, I wish you all much love, happiness, health, and many smiles :)
This year will not have it easy with all the doom and gloom that professional naysayers predict, but I have a thing for underdogs and think that 2009 has great potential. I hope that many people will stop, think, and reassess their lives and make small and big changes for the better.
I am not a person that is good at keeping New Year resolutions, but I will try to walk more consciously through life. Enjoying more what I have, pursuing what is important to me, and changing things here and there. For the better, I hope.
I am very thankful for the past year. I was very happy, I loved and was loved back, and I mastered all the challenges that the year threw at me, and maybe grew a little wiser because of them.
Here is to a wonderful New Year and many new adventures!
I already had one in blue, and now I have one in pink too. The blue one was already pretty nifty. It’s a reusable shopping bag from a supermarket here in Hong Kong. It has become my favorite shopping bag, because it has about the same size and shape as a normal plastic bag, and is very convenient to carry. Other reusable bags were dangling around my legs or too heavy when filled up. It also comes with a little pouch to store it in.
Using the blue bag was making me already feel pretty good, but the pink one is even better. A percentage of the sales price went to the Hong Kong cancer fund to support breast cancer research and supporting services. I think that’s a wonderful idea, and more supermarkets should copy it.
I have these wonderful jeans that not so long ago were very comfortable to wear. A month ago, I noticed that I have to wiggle a bit more to get them over my ass, and that stopping to breathe helps to close the button. The scale confirmed my fears, 3 kilos more – oops, how did that happen? – and most of it seems to have gathered in one area.
Women have the right to have a little padding on their hips, right? Especially if they had a baby and are past their 35th birthday. And what do you shake in front of men if you have no ass? The only problem is to get new jeans. A big-assed woman, one head taller than the rest of the women in Hong Kong, doesn’t have too many choices. I went shopping last week, and could only find pants that were either too tight around the hips or too wide around the waist. It was frustrating, no fun at all… the ass has to go… and who is designing these ridiculous jeans anyway?
Where was I? Aah yes, I wanted to boast about my new work-out regime that I actually enjoy doing. No measurable impact on the ass yet, but I am having fun. Every morning after I bring little man to the school bus, I walk up the mountain behind my house at a brisk pace. The first time I arrived at the top I could hardly breathe, but by now it’s quite easy to do. Last Friday, I arrived at the top and even thought that it had been a bit too easy, so I decided to walk further along a trail I had never tried before.
I am so glad that I did. It wasn’t an easy walk. The trail was narrow and slippery from a tropical downpour a few hours before, but at times it felt like walking through an enchanted forest. There were lots of sparkly dragonflies hovering above rain pools. Yellow butterflies with brown dots that looked a bit like enchanted leopards, and black ones that were so big that I first mistook them for birds. I crossed creeks and marveled at the vegetation around me. Lush, green, and still dripping from the rain in the morning. Trees standing so closely together that there was hardly any light on the ground, ferns with elegant long leaves, and beautiful blossoms in yellow, pink, and red. The trail went along a mountain range directly at the ocean, and at times the views were breath-taking, and bit vertigo inducing. Would they be able to find me, if I slip and roll down the 200 meter slope to the shore?
I made it home intact, and as I was standing under the shower to get off the mud and sweat, I was thankful that Hong Kong, more known for its skyscrapers, still has these wild places. I feel very fortunate to live right at the edge between concrete and jungle.
PS: I have just looked at my popo in the mirror, and I could swear it’s a tiny bit smaller.
574 spam messages. That’s what you get when you feel a little under the water and haven’t been looking at your blog much. Fortunately, I have this nifty spam filter that only missed 4 spam comments out of 574.
What else is going on? I am in Hong Kong and trying to get ahead of all the pressing things I have to do for Cosima Inc, which accumulated during our extended stay in Berlin. It’s all the more pressing because the Chinese New Year celebrations start soon. That’s when roughly 1.3 billion people stop working, board crowded trains to their birth place, and celebrate with their families. In short… Christmas x 10. As my suppliers tell me, it’s also the time when quite a lot of workers decide that their last place of work pays not well enough, and they leave for greener pastures.
China’s economy is booming, and who wants to work in manufacturing when the service sector promises lighter work and better pay? What kills me is that Western media still thinks that China will take over the world by manufacturing everything cheaper, and start World War III. Here is the inside scoop: they are much too busy eating abalone, and carrying Chanel bags.
To wind down, I have been watching LA Ink. Please tell me why she wants to get a boob job. I don’t understand the world anymore.
It must seem as I have fallen off the edge off the earth, but the truth is not even half as dramatic. Little man was sick and there was quite a lot to do for Cosima Inc. Whenever I sat down in front of the computer to write a blog post, I couldn’t find the energy to piece the words together. Instead I watched television. We subscribe to a broadband tv service, and they offer a wide choice of US, European, and Asian channels.
I am strangely fascinated by all the reality tv shows. There are tv shows about people trying to get their own businesses out of the red, about people sifting through the clutter of their homes, people slimming down, being better housewives, being better dads, renovating their homes, … etc, etc. It is always the same story. People start by being hopeless slobs and end up well-organized and pretty.
It’s nice to watch. Firstly it’s comforting to know that there are greater slobs out there than me, and secondly that there is always a happy ending… always. Some are harder to believe than others, but these tv shows are strangely comforting. Even if you are a slob, your children are little monsters, and your home is crumbling, there is hope.
I am also trying to ignore the Christmas theme springing up around me. This year, I just can’t take it. Luckily, in Hong Kong that’s easier to do than in Europe or America. I just wish my local supermarket would not play that tacky Christmas CD over and over.
The only Christmas stuff I am able to take are Christmas cooking shows. Seeing people that have never cooked before, creating a perfect family Christmas dinner is very comforting. I will survive Christmas, I will, I will… because I just need to smile and play along… I don’t need to cook dinner.
Hongkong’s English-language newspaper has a regular feature in its “Life” section, asking local fashion gurus what they have in their closets. Most interviewees brag about their Manolo Blahniks, which isn’t too interesting to read. If they had guts they would interview Birkenstock wearers like me…
Wardrobe staple?
Jeans. I own four pairs of identical jeans that fit well, look good, and are very comfortable to wear.
What would you never throw out of your closet?
I would throw out anything, but there are a few items I am very attached too. One is a black cashmere wool coat, which is at least fifteen years old. I like it’s cut very much, but sadly it has become very threadbare at the ends of the arms. I am constantly on the lookout for a similar coat that can replace it.
Fashion no-nos?
Isn’t everything allowed these days? I think women should wear what suits them and fits well. Unfortunately, that’s very hard to do. Many of the clothes in stores have been designed with malnourished teenagers in mind, and for larger sizes all that is done is to add a few extra inches of fabric all around. It’s no wonder that these clothes do not look good.
Must-have accessory?
My red wallet by Spanish leather goods maker Loewe. I bought it on impulse over ten years ago. Before, I owned dark colored wallets that I never managed to find quickly in my purse, and regularly fell apart after only a year. The red beauty was insanely expensive. I think at no point in time did it hold more money than it cost. However, after more than ten years of trusty service, I feel that the initial outlay has been amortized.
Shoe pick for the season?
Eh… the same pick as last year. Winter is coming up, and I hope I get to take out my boots out of their hiding-place under the bed. At the moment, it’s much to warm to wear them.
Favourite shoe designer? Birkenstock. To my defense, I have to say that I wear the more feminine models. They are very comfortable and keep my feet healthy, but what is best is the cork material the soles are made of It keeps the feet cool in summer, which is so nice in Hong Kong’s hot and humid weather.
To all who say that Birkis are ugly…
…to get feet like these is much uglier.
Flats or stilettos?
Both. I wear flats when I have to walk a lot, and stilettos when I dress up.
Your best high-street steal?
Hmmm… I think that reduced 5er pack of bikini knickers was a great buy.
Bag pick for the winter?
I have to buy a new one. I had bought a brightly colored handbag from Nepal at a Berlin street market this summer, but it unravelled at the seams. It cost only ten Euros. At the moment, I am using a rather elegant black Coach bag, which I had bought ages ago for the office. Looks a bit ridiculous with jeans and Birkis.
Most cherished fashion items?
Lingerie. I love buying it, and I love putting it on because it puts me in a good mood. Also my sun glasses, because I look like a Bond girl when wearing them they shade my eyes from the merciless Hong Kong sun.
What do you buy every winter?
Paper tissues for the snivels.
What’s on your “most wanted” fashion list for winter?
A wool cap in which I don’t look like a complete dork, before I go to Germany for Christmas.
Style icon?
I think Vivienne Westwood is pretty cool. First off, she has a face that reminds me of Maggie Thatcher’s, still she manages to portray the exact opposite image. That’s a feat in itself. Secondly, I get the feeling that she really understands the craft of tailoring, and designs with originality and wit.
High-end or high street?
I am thinking about putting up a PayPal-button in the sidebar for high-end fashion donations, or I could apply to become Karl’s next muse…
In the meantime, it’s the lower end of high street.
Personal style philosophy?
Both my mom and my grandmother were tailors, which doesn’t make me very knowledgeable about fashion, but I can appreciate the skill and experience that goes into a well designed and well sewn piece of clothing. There is a huge difference between a tailor-made garment, cut for your figure, and a ready-made piece. I can’t really afford to have tailor-made clothing, but I am pretty discerning about fit. I love to wear clothing that looks feminine and is comfortable at the same time.
Fashion disaster?
Shoes that looked and felt good when trying them in the shop, but caused lots of blisters later on… I have a few of those.
Favourite winter fashion accessories?
;D
Your fashion style?
Whatever Hennes & Mauritz has to offer with the occasional high-priced retail therapy item thrown in.
Wardrobe essentials?
Always make sure your fly is zipped before going out into the street. I think that’s pretty essential.
PS: The Chinese medicine helped. My cold isn’t gone completely, but I can breathe again.
I have just watched Perfume, and remembered a topic that was floating around the blogosphere a while back. I don’t know if it was a meme, but several bloggers wrote about their favorite smells.
In Perfume, the lead character has an extraordinary sense of smell, and goes on a mission to preserve scents he loves with rather grueling consequences. The movie is a very good adaptation of the book. If you can, read the book first and then watch the movie. I found Ben Wishaw performance, who plays the lead character Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, especially powerful.
Jean-Baptiste Grenouille goes to great length to preserve scents, but for me one of the most enduring aspects is that it is fleeting. Depending on the smell, fleetingness is a godsend (think rotting meat under mid-day sun) or heightens the preciousness of it. Of all the five senses, the sense of smell seems to be the least important, but I think I would miss it very dearly if I would loose it.
I am constantly stumped for an answer if people ask me for my favorite book, song, or holiday destination, but I definitely know my most favorite smell.
The best scent of all is that of a newborn baby. I will never forget how little man smelled when I first held him in my arms. He smelled of amniotic fluid, which is better than any expensive perfume. Mother Nature has some very powerful tricks up her sleeves to ensure that we fall in love with our children from the beginning. I was rather cross, when a mid-wife wanted to bathe my baby in Johnson & Johnson baby bath.
I think smell is also a key ingredient in any erotic encounter. Even just a kiss, placed wherever you prefer, lets you come close enough to smell your lover’s skin. Not to mention the smell of a room during sex. Just imagine how different and less satisfying the experience would be without your sense of smell.
Next comes food, and there are very few food smells that I dislike. Isn’t it wonderful to lift the lid of a cooking pot on a stove and be hid by waves of goodness? Or the smell of home-made cookies wavering through the house, or ripe mangoes as you cut them, or freshly picked tomatoes, or… I could go on and on.
On some days, my morning includes a visit to the neighborhood coffee shop for a cappuccino, quick read through the newspaper, and the occasional chat with a friend or stranger. The coffee shop serves as a meeting place for the neighborhood, and I think one of the reasons why everyone loves to go there is the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. For me it is connected with a feeling of calm and comfort, a short break from the worries and stress of daily life, a little indulgence.
Yesterday, I was at the ocean front, a light breeze was coming from the water, and I was thinking that the salty ocean air has one of the nicest smells. It’s very strong, and after a few hours at the beach it’s in every pore. I associate precious memories with it, of days at the beach with family and friends, taking a swim in the ocean, or boat trips along the shore.
I have many more favorite smells, and the more I think of it, the more I am aware that many of them are connected to precious memories of a person or place. I wonder what comes first, a smell that we then associate with the moment we experienced it, or the experience itself and the smell that came with it, or both at the same time?
;D