Food for body and mind

Food by the kilo

I have been in quality restaurants where the meat and fish was fresh and waiting to be selected by the customer form a cold display and then cooked to order.  For that sort of service, the meat or fish is sometimes weighed and the cost of your meal depends on the weight of the main ingredient.

            Never before have I been in a restaurant where your whole dish (including the plate) was weighed and a sticky ticket affixed to your bill! 

            Picking up Toni from his mother’s in Terrassa at lunchtime, the three of us went to lunch in the entertainment centre in the city.  This monstrosity is the usual collection of cinemas, restaurants, shops and other money extracting establishments set in a series of building which look as though they have been constructed for a cheap film set.

            Everything about the place is ‘faux’ and that included the rustic modern restaurant that we patronized where my favourite pieces of kitsch were the signs for the toilets.  Each of the toilets was designated by means of a ceramic tile in the style of C18th naïf figures.  There was even one for the disabled toilet showing a knickerbocker wearing person in an archaic wheelchair!  Priceless!

            Around the stone cladding and wooden beams in the particular part of the concrete barn where the restaurant was situated there was a non-functional fireplace replete with churns, cereal stalks and three-legged stools.

            The food, however, was fine.  It was served in a buffet style and when you had loaded you plate to your satisfaction you took it to the desk where it was put on a weighing scales, a button pressed and sticky price emerged to be stuck on your bill.

            The basic cost for everything was 14€ per kilo.  An interesting concept and one which, going by the numbers of people there, appears to work.

Publication!

My poem sequence, now entitled Clocks of Dust has been printed and it looks very fine indeed.  I would print a photograph of the main cover, but this site appears not to like the format that I use and so I will have to try something else.

            The final appearance of the booklet owes a lot to Toni who helped with the design of the logo and of the front cover.  It is by far the most professional looking of the ‘books’ that I have written and is something of which I am inordinately proud.

            Indeed to celebrate its publication we went to La Fusta and had a jar of sangria and a selection of tapas.  A photograph was taken showing me with book and glass and, when I am stronger, I will attempt to load it here!

            I have downloaded the print version (so called because none of the graphics were accepted by the site) http://smrnewpoems.blogspot.com.es and readers will be able to see the small but I think significant changes that I have made to the originals of the poems which are also on the site.

            A very limited edition of 12 copies has been produced in a print version and anyone else who is interested will have to make do with the electronic version.  And I will have to ask Toni’s advice about how to ensure that the graphics say with the print when I send them off!

            I am pleased with the final version, though this version too may be changed by the time it is published in book form, which I estimate will be in October 2016.

            I hope that there will be other ‘sequences’ which I can publish in Chapbook form before then, but the 2016 date is one which I think is ‘doable’ after Flesh Can Be Bright is published this October.

            What I am really looking forward to is the reaction of the Poetry Group in Barcelona; last week the group organizer said that we should consider publishing chapbooks of poems that we thought worthy of wider attention.  This week, voila!  And with a good cover too!

Seasonal Demands

I have nailed my seasonal colours to the mast, so to speak, and bought my first bottle of suntan lotion.  This is my clean indication to the weather powers that be, that I consider summer to have started and demand that the weather follow my whim.

            I have taken note of the welter of well meaning information that is available on the Internet and have decided to ignore the highly publicised blandishments of high profile and high cost lotions and go for the Lidl alternative.  I already use the Lidl aftersun lotion, and have done for some time, as it is an excellent moisturiser and I use it on the understanding, as Tesco’s so cleverly put it, that ‘every little helps.’  It can’t do any harm and ageing skin can take all the help it can get.  It’s not that cheap any more, but I am faithful to something that doesn’t do me hurt!

            The bike riding is beginning to tan my legs and arms now that I have decided that it is warm enough to cycle in a t-shirt.  Sometimes that decision is more determination than pleasure, but, as the Labour Party so memorably put it, ‘things can only get better’ – at least in sunshine terms.

Politics

I truly don’t know which country, Spain or Britain, has more of my contempt when it comes to voting intentions.  The odious conservative party in Spain, PP, has lost all credibility and respect – and yet people vote for them.  Lots of people.  They remind me of one of my old lapel badges, which, astonishingly enough for me had “Vote Tory!” in big letters in the middle.  That certainly got people who knew me giving the badge a double take.  It was only when they came closer to check that what they had seen was real that they were able to read the writing around the circumference of the badge, which asked: “Young and stupid?  Old and selfish?”  Then the central “Vote Tory!” made sense.  I see no reason to change that badge for either country!

            UKIP is beneath contempt.  But that will not stop people voting for a ‘chap’ who rejects the hypocrisy of the other established parties and who gives voters heartfelt common sense from a ‘reasonable bloke.’  Any one who believes that he actually is ‘one of them’ will have to be the same public school educated, upper class banker (and that last word was not the one that I wanted to type but it does rhyme with it) who hates foreigners yet has a German wife and whose policies make Toytown seem like Oxbridge sort of person themselves.  Which most of the people who are going to vote for him and his joke of a party are clearly not.

            If nothing else, no one can pretend that there is not something to vote for in the elections this year.  Each vote counts.  God help us!

Holiday end

Sequence

I have finished the last of the Poems in Holy Week, written an introduction and published a single copy as a chapbook!  It now exists electronically and in a single unique printed copy.  I used a rather abstract photograph I took from a hotel window of a wall, railings and frames which was the rather unlovely, but satisfyingly abstract view that I had.  Toni hated the picture and so I have replaced it with something which I think is more acceptably picturesque.

            If anyone would like an electronic copy of the poem sequence you only have to let me have your email address and I will send a copy to you.

            The poems, or versions of them are also available at http://smrnewpoems.blogspot.com.es and, as I always say, I welcome comments either on the site or to me via email.

            I am still not quite sure what to make of what I have written, and I think that the poems will be further revised in the next few months.

            I have found writing them challenging and stimulating – and they have kept me away from my essay on body art which has to be completed in the next couple of weeks!

Easter Day

Apart from writing the final poem, there has been nothing about this day which makes it more distinctive than any other.  I think that tomorrow stands more chance of being festive, as we are going to Terrassa for a family meal in which we will consume the traditional cake or mona de Pascua which I hope has been made by Toni’s sister.

            If you are foolish enough to buy one of these constructions in the shops it can cost you ridiculous sums of money.  One edifice, cake hardly described the fantasy in chocolate and frippery, cost over €80!  And that was in a local shop just waiting for a buyer, as if people just popped in off the street and handed over the money.  Which they did!

            Our version will be home made and almost certainly having a theme of Barça.  I will attempt to remember to take a photograph before the kids get stuck into it and then try the even greater task of getting the damn thing on the site and the almost impossible effort of getting it to stay there.

            Still, Toni’s mum is an ex-cook and her meals are always worth eating.  It is just unfortunate that the whole of Spain seems to be going somewhere on Easter Monday so the roads are likely to be nightmares.

            One particular nightmare concerns our local motorway.  During periods of high volume, the police in this area have been known to cone off one lane on one side of the motorway and have traffic going against the flow of the other two lanes.

And yes, it is quite as horrific as it sounds!

            And the police will have been prised out of the bars that they frequent and will descend on roads main, side and motor to collect untold wealth in fines.  So one small glass of Cava is going to be my limit – with plenty of Earl Grey.

Exercise

I am not a great believer in exercise for the sake of exercise.  I quite enjoyed playing squash and badminton – but those were sports and competitive and therefore there was a point to them.  Swimming is OK because it uses a different medium and that makes the ‘exercise’ element a necessary part of an otherworldly experiment.  No, it’s the treadmill and gym stuff that I can’t stand.  And cycling.

            And therein lies the rub.  I have been cycling for the past few weeks because the car part in the leisure centre is being redone and is therefore closed.

            As it has gone from being a piece of tree shaded, gravel covered dirt to polished, drained concrete, you will appreciate that this is no afternoon with the lorries type of transformation.  The car park is out of commission for a month and since parking in the area is a nightmare the bike will have to do.

            But I have quite taken to it.  I have bought (always a good sign) a rather swish new helmet which is more comfortable, more adjustable and more stylish than the old one.  And, and this is the killer, it has a little red LED flashing light on the back as added protection against blind drivers in killer cars.  The dynamo on my bike has never really worked, as so I have bought a two-intensity front light and a cute red, programmable flashing LED light for the rear wheel.  I do not of course go out on the bike when it is dark or when it is raining, I am after all, no fanatic, but as the sun shines, so I ride.

            It seems more and more likely that, even when the car park reopens, I might continue to ride the bike.  As long as the sun shines.  And I feel so self-congratulatory as I lock the thing up after having navigated quite a nasty mountainous bridge over the motorway!

Exodus

Monday is a holiday and Tuesday should find most of the population of this country going back to work.  The Easter Holiday in Spain barely deserves the word as it is so short.  But on the positive side all of our visitors from Barcelona (which seems to come here en mass during any holiday) will go home and gather strength for the long haul of the summer.  And we have to prepare as well.

Holiday - almost

Appropriation

Well, my take on the meditative quality of Holy Week is almost at an end.  I have written the poem for Holy Saturday and that only leaves tomorrow’s Easter Day poem and the sequence (such as it is) is finished – or at least ready for further editing!  You can read what I have written so far at http://smrnewpoems.blogspot.com.es/ and welcome any and all comments, either on the site or by email to me directly.

It is perhaps significant that the iPhone photo I took of the grotesque corpse lying on the altar of our local church appears to have been rejected by the blog site!  It was the only photo that I have attempted to add and it appeared to have been accepted, but, within a day the picture had become an empty blank square.  I wish I understood how these sites work and why they do what they do.

Or perhaps I don’t!

Food

With our small town overrun by visitors (thank god, that, after all is how the economy of this place survives) getting a meal in a restaurant at the weekend is difficult.  During a holiday is virtually impossible.  That is why we did just that.  After all, if you don’t know where to go when you live in the place it doesn’t really say very much about your native knowledge!

            The answer to our culinary question was my leisure centre!  As the restaurant is still establishing itself, it has only been open as a fully functioning eatery for a matter of weeks, it was still possible to walk in and get a table for two.

            The meal was exceptional – we even had a choice of four different kinds of bread!  Which just about sums up the quality of the meal.  Definitely worth going back.  Again!

Summer

As a well-known ‘winter denier’ I am notorious for wearing what Catalans regard as inappropriate clothing in the colder months of the year – which for those of a foreign persuasion is all the year with the exception of the months of June, July and August!

            Now that the weather is getting warmer I am discarding various layers of clothing.  I am now down to T-shirt and shorts and sandals.  And underpants of course, I am a well brought up boy!

            In reality, I suspect that it isn’t quite the time to be so emphatically summery.  But I do like to encourage the seasons where I can, and anyway the cycle ride this morning was acceptable in such skimpy attire, so that means that it is official.

A little Bach for the weekend

I have not had my traditional session of listening to The Saint Matthew Passion during Holy Week.  I usually do this on Good Friday (I remember one Good Friday when I listened through headphones lying on a sunbed in Gran Canaria) but the sight of the ‘visual aid’ on the altar of the church I visited, put music right out of my mind.  Still, there is always tomorrow and it is Easter Sunday, almost as good as Friday!

And there is the essay, of course – and the visit to the UK is approaching with almost indecent haste.  Quite a lot to keep me occupied!

Not in front of the children

Habit or ritual?

Good Friday is the day when I go to church.  Not, as when I was young, to the three-hour service, but for some other reason which is not always clear to me.

            I do not have to go inside for very long, but I do like to make the effort and sit in a pew for some moments and be quiet and think.

            I have had to put up with some scepticism about this little quirk, especially as I am not a professing Christian any more!  Whatever.  I have visited a church wherever I am on this day and I did the same thing today.

            I do not go very far out of my way to accomplish this little visit and today I went to the church in the entre of Castelldefels.

            Our church is odd in that the main body of the church has no windows.  Where the windows should be there are instead massive paintings of scenes from the Life of Christ.  They are something of an artistic feature of the town and are well worth a view.

            I went into the church after an interesting lunch in a new restaurant (see Toni’s blog: http://catalunyaplacetoeat.blogspot.com.es ) – finding a place was not easy given that today is a Bank Holiday. One of our favourite places to eat is in a hotel restaurant – which was closed for the Easter holidays, a situation which by its sheer illogicality seemed odd to say the least, but we have given up expecting logic to dictate actions in this part of the world!

            The body of the church was empty, with a few women in the side chapel.  In the gloom of the church the one thing that stood out was the high altar.  That had been stripped back to show some icon-like paintings on the side, but it was what was on the top which shocked me.

            Across the length of the altar was a gleamingly realistic loincloth-wearing cadaver whose injured head was resting on a pillow.  It was horrific and frankly repulsive.  I know that you could make the point that what happened to Jesus was repulsive and we should not prettify his death, but there was something grotesquely unpleasant about such a realistically flamboyant display of death.

            I found it impossible to concentrate and the experience was anything other than conducive to meditation.  A thoroughly unpleasant experience!

            And I feel cheated of my annual indulgence.

          My poem based on this experience may be seen at: http://smrnewpoems.blogspot.com.es/ as part of my sequence of poems, Poems in Holy Week.