Tag: food

Thessaloniki

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Ah Greece how much I enjoy your company. It turns out my hermit life at the edge of a boat yard in Preveza is not representative of my usual time here. When with friends it wouldn’t be a crazy statement to suggest there is nowhere better. I’m probably thinking all this at this level of joy because I’ve just been off for ‘lunch’ and that means eating and drinking and beginning at 4pm. While there may be elements of Greek life I struggle with – usually anything outside of the pleasure factor – this is one of my favourite things in the world. The food is usually simple but good quality and that really is the secret. The beer doesn’t have the depth that we have back home but it’s usually hot and the beer refreshes so it is perfect. The wine would be the same. It really is good to catch up with old friends. It makes it hard to leave but maybe being able to leave and then come back is the secret I’ve missed all this time.

It’s a nice place Thessaloniki. Greece’s second city with a population a fifth of the capital and equal the Birmingham’s, it doesn’t feel like a city in the way either of those do. More relaxed, and while there are hectic spots you can escape them. Athens always felt constant, although maybe I just didn’t look hard enough. Last night I wandered around the streets a little, had a beer on the street and realised I was still doing the same thing I was doing when I was twenty-four. Ten years later drinking on the street still has its pleasures but there are moments I feel a little old for it. That is probably because I am a little old for it. Still it’s always good to know I can.

I’m going out for a beer now with some folk from my hostel. I am still twenty-four staying in youth hostel dorms yes. My friend who acts his age has gone back with the family to do father things. There are elements I envy about such a life but there are still many I enjoy about mine. Being able to go out for a beer is certainly one of them. So that’s what I shall do.

Split Peas & Split People

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This might end up being one of those pieces which becomes a few random thoughts that aren’t related but I feel are worth mentioning. To begin with I’m having a nightmare trying to cook split peas. I was hoping to make a nice soup with sweet potato and carrot but these bloody peas just won’t cook. I soaked them for over twenty-four hours and have now had them boiling away for at least an hour to no avail. I enjoy cooking. I also enjoy eating and this enjoyment of eating and of having no money over the years means I’m not a bad cook. I don’t make enough soups though. A split pea soup sounds just lovely.

I’m a total romantic. I’m listening to Spanish Civil War music and dreaming of what could have been. It was such a glorious and horrific time. We like to imagine antifa and the antifascist as some new phenomenon but it’s been going as long as the fascist gave themselves such a name. I have mentioned this particular war a few times but it really is another example of the people being screwed over by power. Not just power in Spain but through the neutrality of countries like the UK. Franco had Hitler’s Germans and Mussolini’s Italians, the Republic ended up having no choice but relying on the Soviets who took over as best they could and did more damage than help. France may have been a Republic but it was never built on the ideals of decentralisation and the anarcho-collectives. The European powers as ever showed their true colours, for old powers like the British, Fascism was infinitely more palatable than people having true power. These things are contagious, they must be quashed.

The Twentieth Century was just a long list of outside interference with vested interests. Allende, Chile and Pinochet is always an easy one to bring up but let’s not forget Cambodia and Margaret Thatcher’s refusal to recognise the new communist government that replaced the genocidal maniac Pol Pot. She was also a bit of a fan of apartheid South Africa. Let’s not forget the British influence upon the overthrow of a democratically elected government in Iran that wanted to nationalise oil production, the dictatorship of the new Shah, a western puppet, more agreeable. General Suharto in Indonesia who killed a quarter of the population but who provided the Australians, as well as the US and Brits, with cheap access to natural minerals. Yugoslavia, the last Socialist country in Europe after the fall of the Soviet Union was never allowed to exist. It is always easier to control smaller broken up and angry states than one larger one.

Talking of apartheid, Palestine is another obvious one. Obvious because it is still going on not because it is ever really talked about. You wouldn’t know it if you just watched western media but Israel have been bombing the shit out of the Gaza Strip for eight straight days now. Apparently Hamas fired two homemade rockets out and the Israeli’s felt the need to obliterate them in return. Eight days and not a peep.

Anyway my split peas have burnt. I got carried away and forgot to check on them. I give up.

Life’s Twists & Turns

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I was going to talk about something important, as always, but I’m currently wallowing in the post breakfast euphoria of this…

Focaccia eggy bread, with blue cheese, wild smoked salmon and a ‘garnish’ of rocket

I’m so painfully middle class I’m not even fighting it anymore. I also managed to remember that I was going to talk about different and uncontrollable paths in life. I realised last night that had this virus not become a thing I would have just been departing an Easyjet flight from Edinburgh to Athens, ready to say hello to some old faces and getting excited about a summer sailing around Greek islands drinking beer and wine, and eating too much of the world’s best cuisine. Yes I just made that statement. But that was what could have been.

I’m currently making pizzas as previously mentioned. This won’t go on forever and the lifting of lockdown will have an affect upon it but at most it’ll be a summer gig until the schools go back and the tourists disappear. This was never meant to be the plan as I said but it’s just what I’m doing now. Maybe in July I’ll have had enough of it and realise I’m wasting my time but that is something for future me to deal with. The point is that we clearly can’t control life’s ever evolving patterns. We can influence certain elements of it but let’s be honest in most things we’re pretty powerless. If you can’t sail, you just do something else. You meet other people, make other bonds. And you go with that and see what happens.

The truth is that while undeniably I’m longing for a holiday sitting on a beach somewhere in the sun and waking up whenever it pleases me, I’m perfectly content with this version of existence and how it’s unfolding. Maybe something will ruin that contentment, maybe something won’t. The point is not to tell you I’m living some kind of perfect life because I’m not, there’s no such thing, but there’s a good chance the whole world is doing something completely different in this Covid-19 version of existence and I just enjoyed the fact that last night I was sitting there and had a fairly good idea of exactly what I would have been doing. That I think is a rare pleasure, and a pleasure because I’m not longing for either. If we make the most of whatever we do end up doing we’re less likely to long for anything else.

And that goes for my breakfast too. It is Sunday today and while I love to think I would be in the Koukaki district of Athens looking for some little hipster brunch place, most likely I would be grabbing a spanakopita from the first bakery I could find from the few that open on a Sunday in Greece before driving to Preveza and fixing up a boat. Yes I desire that, but I’m pretty happy with whats sitting in my belly currently too.

As I read over that I felt at one point I wanted to vomit on myself. Don’t get me wrong the sentiment about uncontrollable existence and riding it’s wave still stands. It’s just I’m painfully aware that the two possible versions of existence I know of are pretty decent and there are plenty out there who don’t even have one decent version. “If you can’t sail, you just do something else“, I mean come on, what a wanker. But I don’t feel guilty, I don’t feel bad and I don’t feel I want to give up my blue cheese, what would that achieve. I’m just aware I’m incredibly lucky. Maybe I should find a way to share my blue cheese instead.

Being Intolerant To Intolerances

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I was hoping to think of something deep, intellectual, philosophical and meaningful to write about but I ate a pizza tonight and my stomach hurts. I can’t stop farting. It’s insane. Thankfully I enjoy and am a fan of a good fart so there is at least this pleasure to go with the pain in my stomach. The same thing happened last weekend after I had been eating pizza for a couple of day so I can only imagine it is the pizza. Saying that I had no problem the previous two weekends when I ate pizza the whole time. Maybe it has built up. It could be the onions and I will try one without them and without the sauce. If not I may have to face up to the horror that would be some kind of intolerance to the base. That would be an absolute nightmare. To make pizzas and not be able to eat them. It would nearly be as bad as having to tell people I’m gluten intolerant and watch as their faces change to disdain. A total nightmare all round.

I’m reading a book at the moment on the gut. I read this bit a few days ago and may have forgotten details but an intolerance is where the body can’t break down something in the food, it reaches the lymph glands or something like that and the body goes into overdrive trying to expel it because it thinks it is being attacked. Basically this is my body fighting back because it can’t deal with something I’ve ingested. It’s like when you get a fever this is the body increasing in temperature so as to kill any bacteria or virus within in, making itself inhospitable to survive in. Of course this feels rather unpleasant to us but it is worth remembering that this is actually a good sign. My body has decided to make itself inhospitable to something then. Fuck. I love food and I can’t think of anything worse than not being able to eat anything and everything I want. Maybe that’s the problem. A life without edible pleasures, a life less lived.

I don’t think it would be great to take what I said as fact in the last paragraph because I may have got it slightly confused with lactose intolerance which is about being unable to breakdown the lactose in dairy but the purge and inhospitable bodies isn’t far wrong. I’ve just drunk a cup of warm boiled water which seems to have helped somewhat. If in doubt just drink boiled water. I’m quite thirsty too and I’ve puffed up ever so slightly, not much but I’m a little pink. And just like that my dreams of a pizza empire have fallen flat. Could be for the best though because three days of eating pizzas each weekend is hardly going to do me any favours in the belly stakes, or heart either. Did you know when the body absorbs fats and oil they don’t go through the liver and kidneys like everything else to be filtered but instead bypass everything and go straight to the heart. That is a little worrying. Thirty four years old now. Already lost one friend my age to a heart attack. These things are serious. Maybe it’s time for the wholegrain pizza instead.

When Will Saturday Come

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It’s Saturday. Thought I would stumble out of bed a little hung over, not too much, just a enough to create edge. Have my breakfast which is more relaxed than the mid week one but fundamentally the same, I leave the dirty sexy breakfast for a Sunday. While eating plan all the semi-productive things I would like to accomplish for the day before leaving for the supermarket, ticking that off the list but being exhausted enough upon return that the list get scrumpled up and thrown in the fire which I made to sit in front of feeling like a wild man as the football results come in. Secretly I’ve quite enjoyed this lockdown, mainly because I’ve not really been locked down I imagine, but there are certain old habits and routines I miss. I enjoyed those semi-busy Saturdays. I long for the return of the football. And I’m currently not in the same house as the fireplace unfortunately. If that all sounds hard then don’t even get me started on the pleasures of a Sunday morning drinking coffee and reading the newspapers as my dog sits beside me and I’m surrounded by countryside. It’s pointless longing for things we cannot have but it’s good to be able to see the things we really value when they’re not there. I quite fancy a pint as well. Don’t give a shit about much us though. Although a holiday would be nice.

I miss my dog. She lives with may parents these days which is good for her because they live in the countryside and it forces them to go on walks everyday. People don’t appreciate the value of pets I don’t think. I can’t see her at the moment though because while I deliver food to my parents, I don’t let her see me because I won’t be staying and she won’t understand why I’m leaving so quickly after coming back. Poor girl. Poor me too. There are going to be some parties when this is all done. It’ll be a while until the pubs are open I reckon and people will be warned off getting together too much too soon but lets be honest, folk are going to go wild. We’re like school children at the best of times let alone when we’ve been stuck inside, away from everyone, sober and being healthy for what must feel like an eternity. I can’t wait for the outcry from the media, front pages of people having fun. Probably the same papers which will be a week earlier pushing for the end of restrictions. Theres nothing like a short memory.

I’m tired today. I was woken up early and now I need to go to work. I’m attempting to write this early now instead of tonight when I get in. It’s strange, sometimes late at night I get my best ideas. Maybe I should give up on being a morning person and accept life as a night owl. They usually seem happy. A little white and sickly maybe, but happy enough. But not tonight, this is certainly not going to be an old Saturday night. When I’m tucked up in my bed before midnight I guarantee there’ll be no nostalgia from me. I love you all. I’ll see you tomorrow. Fresh, awake, invigorated, just like an awful morning person should be.

The Covid-19 Miracle

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Times of crisis expose reality for what it is. It is undeniable that we live in a world that thrives on illusions, usually used to sell us things we don’t need and to instil a sense calm servitude. There must be a multitude of old adages about how if we as a collective people knew the truth we would rise up and smash the state and it’s puppetmasters. How true that is is slightly debatable, I don’t have much faith in us not just taking the safe and easy option given such a scenario. I am attempting to avoid talking about this coronavirus with every post but it is quite a challenge when it has entirely taken over our lives, our newsfeeds and our thought processes. Everything seems the same as I look out the window but apparently it isn’t, that may just be one of the illusions I’m still living within.

This then may not yet appear to be a crisis but from all I hear it is already well within that category of event. Even if nothing more happens now, we wake up tomorrow and miraculously Covid-19 has disappeared; we have probably done enough damage to the economy that we’ll suffer another recession. Capitalism thrives on this, we live in an age of disaster capitalism and this will be welcomed with open arms by those already starting to buy up stock on the cheap. I’m not necessarily doubting the severity of this virus, while I doubt there is much danger for myself I worry about my parents, and I know I’ve said this previously. What I will be critical of, and it is another thing to add to the disgustingly large pile of bullshit, is how the media has used any opportunity to sensationalise everything relatable they can. The hysterical criticism of people who have stockpiled food in response to the hysterical whipping up of fear that stocks may run out. Like capitalism, like the vast majority of politicians, the media has no morality. I’m not going to go as far as to say the whole thing has been set up to create a new recession but the media have certainly played such a part in bringing one about, it is easy to justify accusations it is intentional.

Saying all that though, are they not just a creation of our own making. They keep creating sensationalism because all we respond to is sensationalism. If people were more receptive to stories about initiatives in local areas that have been set up to help those in need during this crisis then maybe they would print some. Maybe they don’t exist that’s the problem. I have been attempting to find any local to me and cannot. It is probably too early, people are still out and about.

We have been taught for so long to look out for ourselves and this is easy when things are comfortable, it’s when we struggle that we need to come together. As a society we haven’t really struggled collectively since the Second World War. Politicians are already trying to invoke this kind emotive response but they’re all so pathetic and such weasels that it is hard to take them seriously. Boris Johnson with whistle to his lips about to order us over the top, “Nah you’re alright ya prick, you first…on ya go”. On the upside we may rediscover what it feels like to get to know and help your neighbour, or help anyone. Maybe I’m getting a little ahead of myself with that though. The Covid-19 miracle and how it saved society. At the very least we’ll get some great data in a year or two about the environmental benefits of industry, airlines and cars being shut down. The steroid boost that slowed climate change, we have have just gained ourselves a little extra time. Now that would be a miracle.

This Blog

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One thing I have noticed about this blog is that since I started publishing it and not continued keeping it a secret thing like the first month, I have stopped writing about the blog itself. The pieces now seem to be about topics; such as resolutions, Dublin, something political, and other things I can’t remember but certainly in the early days I was happy to write about how this beast itself was developing. Initially the point of the blog was to do an experiment and see whether I could write about something every day. So far I have managed that and it is something that the majority of the time doesn’t take up a disproportionate amount of effort. The articles are not necessarily of the highest calibre, or what I would like them to be, I suspect if I took longer or didn’t put a piece out daily, I could take more time and effort researching and forming something. Instead as is clear I seem to start with an idea and just go from there, which I also really enjoy as a format. I’ve mentioned before about the discipline to sit down each day and the mental discipline to put in effort to write something decent are separate things. Since publishing certainly the awareness of others reading has had an effect on this, but I think I am pushing myself slightly more; fully aware I could go further, which will evolve as time goes on.

What will also evolve though, and has as I said, is what I write about. As I mentioned already I’m not really putting out fluff pieces – although it could be argued this is one – even though it’s a perfectly legitimate topic it feels slightly self-indulgent. I see other blogs and they seem to be on particular issue, like travel, food, mindfulness or politics and I seem to drift into each of those areas when I feel like it. To attract people to this blog it would be good perhaps to focus on a particular area and subject to write about. However I’m not going to as I think that while it will evolve organically, the point is to see if I can write each day about something over writing about something each day, and there is a difference. Equally if it is an experiment to simply write, we corrupt ourselves the moment we worry more about numbers than the actual thing we’re doing. It may evolve organically in a certain direction which would be great and if after one year I am still writing and writing about a particular subject then the goal would be complete with a bonus thrown in.

So this blog is going to continue to be random and off the cuff. I would like it to improve, in the meantime though I’m happy; nothing is ever perfect so it is great that I can see improvement is necessary and hopefully make the effort to find it. It is even greater that I’m still here after what is probably about two months now and not got distracted and sacked it off.

Self-congratulatory piece…tick.

Well done me…prick.

‘Tis the Season

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It’s that time of year again that everyone gets excited, drinks too much, loves family, drinks a bit more and hates family. The reason I talk about Christmas, I’m sure you’ve already guessed, is that I have been wrapping presents. It is easily my least favourite part of the whole experience as I find it so very tedious. I have obvious reservations about Christmas, the commercialisation has spread like rabies and it can create the same rabid affect on people, but it is also the same people who wince when they see shop decorations in September. People still seem to have retained a semblance of decency in this regard despite the best efforts of those trying to sell joy.

What is it then that makes people enjoy Christmas so much, it can’t just be the buying and selling of presents, despite best efforts our happiness isn’t programmed into the strength of the economy and has nothing to do with GDP. And despite all my reservations I must confess that after the horrors of realising I have to buy presents and think, I actually quite enjoy it, there’s something satisfying realising you’ve had a good idea. Perhaps then it comes back to the initial idea in the very first sentence. The obvious statement to make is that Christmas brings people together, and while that is cheesy and not entirely accurate with it’s disgustingly positive connotations, there is still some truth in it. It may be that in bringing people together and creating an environment in which people can eat, drink and be merry, it allows them to forget the drudgery of their existence for a few days. The highs and lows of life and all the drama that that entails, loving and then hating family, is always something us sensation hooked humans thrive on, evidenced surely by the spike in domestic violence over the period.

Yet we keep on coming back. Year after year we get excited for Christmas, or at least in my little middle class bubble everyone I know does. I suspect it is also an incredibly stressful period for millions of people out there as they take on the new debt that’ll take them until the following Christmas to pay off or spend it without a loved one for the first time. Does that make me enjoy my Christmas any less, and would it make me a bad person if I didn’t let it. It would certainly take a selfish martyr to tell me so. In which case we embrace the bubble we live in. Eat, drink, fuck and fight just as we did last year, and just as we’ll do for a thousand to come.

Sin

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There is one thing we all have a tendency to do in life and that is things which are not good for us. Perhaps some of this was covered in Coffee or was supposed to be but there is not always a cohesion between the initial idea for this and what it evolves into. Currently my eyes are struggling not to feel heavy, my back is slouched and my belly is bursting. I ate too much for dinner. I knew as I piled the food on to my plate that I had too much and while on some occasions the realisation that the sun would likely rise in the morning with me still alive to witness it, and therefore need another meal to sustain me, would result in me taking what I needed and putting aside for the next day what I don’t; tonight was not one of them. What was clear was that I had too much food and I knew that but I did it anyway and as I ate I experienced the uncomfortable sensation of overeating. I didn’t stop.

Over the years I have heard various suggestions on what is enough food for someone to eat. They say your mind does something magical and will help your stomach to adapt to what is on your plate, seconds are therefore not advised as the stomach is not prepared. They say the stomach is the size of your fist. They say you should fill your stomach three quarters and leave the final quarter for air. They say a lot. Ultimately we instinctively know what is too much, what is good or bad for us, but we embrace what will damage us anyway. I read once that a lack of sleep can lead to us making bad decisions and one thing highlighted was food. When we are tired we crave foods we may not if we’re fully rested. My diet is not bad, if I am tired I do sometimes crave junk food, importantly I don’t believe that is because I’m feeling lazy to cook properly. That also doesn’t mean it is down to a lack of sleep though. Regardless I, we, know better. We know we are killing ourselves yet we do it anyway. Death by gluttony, it’s a real thing check it out, one of only seven authentic ways to die of sin apparently.