Blow-up

In the late 1960s, a photographer roams the streets of the London in his Rolls Royce, stopping here and there to take pictures. Then goes to his studio, where models await him, then is off again. On the way he Read more

Simple

Sometimes you don’t need much to create a masterpiece in the kitchen. Just buy some very fresh blue fish, such as red mullet or sardines, flour it lightly and fry it in olive oil. Let it rest for a few minutes in a paper towel to get rid of the excess of oil, and serve it while still hot and crunchy. The fish will melt in your mouth. If you accompany it with a dressing made of parsley, extra virgin olive oil and lemon, the healthy, cheap and tasty chef-d’œuvre will be complete.

Photo: Pescaito, Valencia, 2010 © loudsoul

Aperitivo

As far as I know, no country in Europe, not to speak about other parts of the world, has developed a culture of the aperitivo as Italy did. These days one could completely skip dinners, and go instead for this combination of drinks and early dinner, sometimes light, sometimes more substantial, in which you only pay for the drink and food arrives magically at your table. The closest practice could be that of the free tapas when you order a glass of wine or a beer in some Andalucian villages, but these would not qualify for a meal as the aperitivo does. Today, some Camparis with soda at the beautiful and a little figuetto (posh) patio of the Hotel Locarno deserved a series of small delicatessen dishes served twice without even ordering them, and yesterday, the funky Freni e frizioni, at the Trastevere, welcomed us with some nice cocktails and -courtesy of the bar- a delicious veggie buffet, plus the nice deep-house music of a guest dj and an animated terrace where a gorgeous crowd scattered to enjoy salads, mojitos and conversation. Could there be a better way of bringing to an end these warm days here in Rome?

Hotel Locarno

Freni e Frizioni

Photo: Ice cubes I, 2007 © Just in time

Happy noshing in great company

A culinary summary of this weekend would include a très bonne bouillabaisse in the frenchiest bistro in Vancouver -not just because of the food but also because the Le Marais like atmosphere and a very European and rare to find sense of humour in the air-, where you can really feel at home; the freshest fried cod and salmon in a well-known stall by the water, surrounded by boats, the friendly and warm sunlight of the afternoon, and some “dangerous” seagulls above, as they proved to be… And a super yummy Italian dinner -previous visit to the public market- consisting of spinach and nuts salad, mozzareline with prosciutto, basilico and pomodori secchi, pasta with pancetta and pomodoro, and cannoli with ricotta and pistacchio, with Italian, Argentinian and Spanish wines. The company with whom I shared all these treats? Well, let´s just say it could not be better. Ah, foody happiness in three acts…

Photo: Yesterday’s lunch, 2007 © Pink Daisy

Perfection in words

Sometimes I think I only need the works of Joseph Roth, Stefan Zweig, Herman Hesse, Jorge Luis Borges, Robert Waltzer, and Natalia Ginzburg. And a desert island. That’s all.

Photo: Herman Hesse à Montagnola © fileane.com

Asian delicacies

Chives and minced pork steamed buns, Japanese utane sweet bread (a special baking technique makes it extra soft), Taiwanese aloe vera yogurt, two kinds of soju (rice liquor), one strong (from North Korea), the other smoother (from South Korea), amazing sockeye salmon sushi, warm sake, Japanese multi-layered milk cake, special octopus balls made with squid and kimchi (spicy Korean cabbage), veggie teriyaki pancakes, homemade Cantonese rice with chicken, baby bamboo shoots, crunchy pork ear, and the best black sesame ice-cream ever. All this food was enjoyed in the same weekend, and amounted to a delightful culinary trip to the four corners of the Far Eastern world. Eatable bliss.

Photo: Cantonese dishes, 2009 © Loudsoul

Love and novelty

What do we fall in love with? Personality? A face? A body? Can we isolate these parts of us from each other? And what is it that we consider self? ‘I cannot recognize the person I fell in love with. She changed so much’. Does this make any sense? May our personalities change so much that we become ‘other’ person? And what if we remain the same person but physically change so much others do not recognize us? Are we the same individual or not?

How does the process of growing tired of someone work? We constantly get tired of objects and covet new ones. Are individuals like objects? But, isn´t it that we may fall in love with each other because we are not objects? If we are not objects, how can we get tired of seeing the same face every morning, by our side, when we wake up? Where do we set up the tipping point, by which the feeling of happiness aroused by the presence of the loved one turns into fatigue? And, beyond this point, are we really able to go back in time, towards the moment it all started? ‘I love you more each day’. Can this really go on forever? Isn´t the contrary more likely, though?

What would we be willing to do to make our loved one to keep those feelings alive, as if in the very beginning? Up to which point could we change so he / she experienced it as a fresh start, a whole new story but with the same characters? Could we be willing to change phisically? Is this too much? Actually, we see this around us on a daily basis, and for the same reasons (many people voluntarily undergo painful physical transformations in an attempt to retain his / her love).

Why couldn´t desire for the same body stay with us forever? ‘I´ll love you forever’, we say. Why not ‘I´ll desire you forever’?

Find these captivating and disturbing questions in the astounding South Korean movie Shi-Gan (Time), directed by Kim Ki-Duk in 2006.

Photo: Hyeon-a Seong in Shi-Gan © Flixter.com

Destruction / redefinition

If there is nowadays a country on earth capable of totally redesigning itself, it is China. Its current process of physical ruination and swift recreation is not a simple one, since it seems to embody Schumpeter´s old principle of creative destruction, albeit particularly in the urban lanscape in the Chinese case.

“Dans New York, c’est bien quand on est jeune, mais c’est trop prévisible. Votre avenir est écrit. Tandis qu’en Chine, le développement urbain est tellement chaotique que rien n’est prévisible. Tout est possible”.

Zhang Ke*

“J’ai essayé de répondre à la question : quel est le message de l’architecture et de l’art contemporain chinois? C’est une énorme question qui se pose à nous. La plupart des gens ont encore en eux la culture traditionnelle chinoise, mais tout a changé. Il faut trouver le moyen de réunir ces deux cultures, Chine et modernité”.

Wang Hui*

[*] Young Chinese architects, in Le Monde, August 5, 2008.

Photo: ‘Misty’, Pudong District, Shanghai, 2006 © Matteroffact

Shadows (textures 3)

Do shadows have any volume? Can we touch them? If we approach them, do we hear any noise coming from the obscurity? Do we realize how they play with the afternoon light in distant corners of the house?

“Me maravilla comprobar hasta qué punto los japoneses han sabido dilucidar los misterios de la sombra y con cuánto ingenio han sabido utilizar los juegos de sombra y luz. Y todo eso sin buscar particularmente ningún efecto determinado. En una palabra, sin más medios que la simple madera y las paredes desnudas, se ha dispuesto un espacio recoleto donde los rayos luminosos que consiguen penetrar hasta allí, engendran aquí y allá recovecos vagamente oscuros. Sin embargo, al contemplar las tinieblas ocultas tras la viga superior, en torno a un jarrón de flores, bajo un anaquel, y aún sabiendo que sólo son sombras insignificantes, experimentamos el sentimiento de que el aire en esos lugares encierra una espesura de silencio, que en esa oscuridad reina una serenidad eternamente inalterable.”

Junichiro Tanizaki, Elogio de las sombras, Madrid, Siruela, 2007.

Photo: Tea house silhouette, Kyoto, 2007 © Tavallai

Taste (textures 2)

Does food taste differently depending on the material the plates we serve it in is made of? Can you distinguish between soup presented in regular porcelain and the same soup served in Japanese lacquered bowls? According to Tanizaki, there is a remarkable difference, not to speak of the visual and the heat-preserving qualities of the Japanese lacquerware itself, its sonic properties, the feeling of its surface in the palm of one´s hand, and its evocative power.

“Una vajilla de cerámica no es nada desdeñable, es cierto, pero a las cerámicas les faltan las cualidades de sombra y de profundidad de las lacas. Son pesadas y frías al tacto; permeables al calor, no sirven para los alimentos calientes; además, el menor golpe les saca un ruido seco, mientras que las lacas, suaves y ligeras al tacto, no lastiman el oído. Cuando sostengo en el hueco de mi mano un cuenco de sopa, nada me resulta más agradable que la sensación de pesadez líquida, de vívida tibieza que experimenta mi palma. Es una impresión análoga a la que produce al tacto la carne elástica de un recién nacido.

Todas éstas buenas razones para explicar por qué se sigue sirviendo hoy en día la sopa en un cuenco de laca, pues un recipiente de cerámica está muy lejos de dar satisfacciones comparables. Y sobre todo porque, en cuanto levantas la tapa el líquido encerrado en cerámica te revela inmediatamente su cuerpo y color. En cambio, desde que destapas un cuenco de laca hasta que te lo llevas a la boca, experimentas el placer de contemplar en sus profundidades oscuras un líquido cuyo color apenas se distingue del color del continente y que se estanca, silencioso, en el fondo. Imposible discernir la naturaleza de lo que hay en las tinieblas del cuenco, pero tu mano percibe una oscilación fluida, una ligera exudación que cubre los bordes del cuenco y que dice que hay un vapor y el perfume que exhala dicho vapor ofrece un sutil anticipo del sabor del líquido antes de que te llene la boca.”

Junichiro Tanizaki, Elogio de las sombras, Madrid, Siruela, 2007.

Photo: Yakan=kettle, Nakakoma, Japan, 2007 © nam2_7676

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