Bondi Beach wheels

Bondi can’t boast the same gastronomic standards as Sydney’s other suburbs, I’m thinking of Surry Hills or Darlinghurst here. The fact that Campbell parade is lined with a string of skanky fast food restaurants is certainly testament to that. But in the last fortnight, we have been happily discovering some of our local eateries, mostly tucked away from the beach-side bustle, though still enjoying the success of wayfarer-wearing Bondi beach dwellers, who are an extraordinary sub-species of Sydney-siders.

Bodies carpeting the beach

The Rum Diaries

This is a funny one. It occupies a spot on Bondi road, competing only with cheap eateries like Oporto and that funny looking chicken place. The discreet italic white font on the black facade promises discerning eaters that it is taking a different approach than luring in with neon lights and steak and schooners for an alarming $8.

We were in a group of 8 for a Saturday evening eating extravaganza so we were hustled to the private dining area in the back, where I was delighted to be surrounded by old suitcases, trunks, typewriters and other bric-a-brac finds. To complete the Cluedo-look of the place, a revolving library with a clandestine store room intrigued us all.

Perched on varying sizes of chairs (including a very mature swivel chair) over a rather small wooden box table, we feasted on the entire menu pretty much. The portions were basically big enough to share –  whether that was due to the epic portion sizes here in Sydney, or because it was supposed to be eaten as tapas, I’m not quite sure.

Seared scallops crusted with pepper and salt were delightfully crisp on the outside and sweet and succulent inside, served with a pea puree. The stella chicken was also a winner, super succulent (just as the place over the road promises) and an excellent sliced beef fillet, pink on the inside with a nice crust. Other less exciting dishes to start – the ubiquitous hummus, aubergine and pesto dips with not-salty-enough bread.

On the whole, this is an awesome option for eating in Bondi, particularly on the otherwise unappetising Bondi Road – low-key, hipster crowd, friendly service, tasty food. Over the road, the Flying Squirrel also looks cool, so that’s next up.

Sean’s Panorama

Sean’s Panorama is no secret to the food lovers of Sydney; with his string of awards and press mentions, Sean Moran has been enjoying a similar success to Bill Granger thanks to his whites T-shirts and ‘no worries’ attitude. I went here last year and had the pleasure of trying the 5 course tasting menu ($90), which is pinned up on a board over the front of the open kitchen. It was one of those perfect Sydney nights – a cocktail overlooking the surfers at Icebergs, a stroll along the promenade, followed by dinner at Sean’s Panorama en famille. This was a year ago so the specific details evade me now, but I do remember an heirloom tomato salad with goat’s curd (a dish we have been recreating almost weekly since we got here), a ceviche-y starter and white chocolate nougat. It was all excellent, but we left completely stuffed.

This Sunday, we treated ourselves to a second sitting, though for Maxi is was his first. The interior is seaside-chic, stripey tablecloths on large heavy wooden tables, an open oyster shell is perched in the middle with Murray River flakes on display. We BYOed in a bid to save a little cash and at $20 corkage – it’s a little steeper than usual – but judging by the clientele who were glugging bottles of Moet, it is a small drop in the adjacent ocean.

An odd crowd it was indeed, and don’t get me started on the lady next to us who ordered a skinny cappucino as an aperitif and finished on one too. The Italians would be up in arms at such a sight.

Customers aside and onto the menu. There was farmed rabbit two ways, a chicken liver pate, stuffed courgette flowers with mint,  chuck (aussie for chicken) with walnuts, mullet with fennel and olives. Maxi, of course, had the chuck (€45) despite not believing me as first when I insisted it meant chicken. It looked good, he ate it too fast for me to try, but I was pretty happy with my mullet, which was steamed in the parchment on the bed of fennel and olives. There were luscious olive oil and lemon juices which I dunked a cruchy rosti patty in. The runner beans that are served as sides were equally delightful when added to the mix.

I love kitsch desserts, and passionfruit granita, mango salad and ice cream served in a classic ice cream sundae glass was perfection. The granita was fresh and packed with fruitiness, perfect alongside the creamy ice cream. But $19 is a little on the steep side for over here. All in all, we went home a lot poorer but content. Though it isn’t mind-blowing as such, you can almost guarantee a good meal here.

Coming up … Brown Sugar, North Bondi Italian, Gusto, Flying Squirrel and Icebergs (if I can afford it)

Aseara s-a lansat sub forma unui proiect surpriza, la Galeriile ArtMark, colaborarea intre Gusto si marele caricaturist Stefan Popa Popa`s, care continua ideea de promovare a optimismului popularizata si in cadrul conferintei Optimism 2009. Astfel, au fost dezvelite mai multe caricaturi avand protagonista mascota brandului si care vor putea fi admirate si pe ambalajul pufuletilor. Mi s-a parut interesant ca organizatorii s-au gandit sa alature un produs ieftin unei atmosfere elegante, alaturi de sampanie,pe muzica lui Marius Mihalache  si intr-o asemenea locatie.Toti cei prezenti au putut sa simta pe propria piele cum e sa fii transpus  live pe hartie  de catre caricaturistul cu cea mai rapida mana din lume. Ma mandresc ca “am intrat in istorie” , asa cum zicea maestrul insusi, alaturi de un numar impresionant de personalitati din intreaga lume .

…alle apparenze. Sì, lo so, è una frase fatta, ma in questo caso indica una profonda verità che riguarda il mio fornaio di fiducia, il mitico Pasquale. Originario del salernitano, ha trascorso un periodo a Varese e poi, a causa di varie vicissitudini, si è trasferito qui a Modena.
Il negozio di Pasquale, situato in centro storico, è vecchio e non ha nulla di speciale, almeno da un punto di vista estetico: si tratta di una bottega un po’ malandata con annesso il forno, una bottega modesta che forse avrebbe bisogno di essere ristrutturata. Però, in questa semplice e onesta bottega si preparano alcuni dolci che possono essere definiti “opere d’arte”.

In passato ho frequentato fior di pasticcerie, con vetrine lucide come specchi, torte messe in bella vista, cumuli di paste colorate e altro ancora, ma si trattava di tutto fumo e niente arrosto: torte secche o dure o con sapori strani sui quali era meglio non indagare, e paste così dolci da far venire il mal di stomaco e il diabete anche a una persona sanissima.
Da Pasquale, invece, nulla di tutto questo. Le sue torte di mele, ad esempio, non sono normali torte di mele ma autentiche poesie per il palato: ce ne sono di due tipi, una con mele dentro e un’altra con mele sopra, e non si sa quale delle due preferire. In passato odiavo le torte di mele, ma dopo aver assaggiato quelle di Pasquale mi sono convertita. Ottime anche la crostata di amarene, che sembra fatta in casa, e la torta Barozzi, un succulento dolce al cioccolato tipico di queste parti.

Ma il momento dell’estasi completa giunge a primavera, quando comincia il periodo in cui viene preparata la torta di fragole. In vita mia non ho mai assaggiato niente di simile e non sto esagerando. Delicata, morbidissima – bisogna persino stare attenti a non spezzarla -, farcita con una crema che definire raffinata è riduttivo, la torta di fragole è un capolavoro di alta pasticceria. Ed è l’unica cosa che, in questo splendido autunno, m’induce a pensare alla primavera.

(L’immagine è tratta da: http://casa.atuttonet.it/tag/diametro)

After a morning of church viewing, our tummies were crying out for something to eat and after a bit of disappointment at the Mausoleum of Augustus (totally covered in overgrowth and surrounded by big fences – it was a no go), I came across a big sign/map for ‘Gusto. The Graphic Foodie had recommended the place to me via Twitter and it was on my list of possible places to eat. ‘Gusto turned out to be a complex consisting of a restaurant/pizzeria, a seafood restaurant, a wine shop, a kitchenware shop, and I’m probably leaving out a few other things too. With such a vast collection of shops, I was wondering how each would fare – we settled on the pizzeria to find out.

At lunchtime, the ‘Gusto pizzeria had a few special menus on offer – one for pizza and a drink and another for the buffet and a drink. Buffet? In Rome? I recalled my initial disbelief over some interaction on Twitter with SpiceSpoon when she said that she’d found that buffets in Rome were fresh and excellent. I took a look at the offerings and decided it was definitely worth a try – everything did look fresh and vibrant and so delicious.

There were many locals there for lunch, always a good sign, and the majority opted for the buffet. There were both hot dishes and cold salads and I sampled bits from both. Of the food on offer, I skipped the roast chicken and the polpette but had silky soft aubergine slices topped with crispy breadcrumbs, sliced rare beef with a balsamic reduction and pine nuts, whole grilled prawns, roasted tomatoes filled with risotto. Fresh mozzarella knots, thickly sliced juicy tomatoes, grilled aubergine slices, grilled courgette slices, cooked spinach, and my favourite, the spinach braised with garlic and peperoncino.

As is usual with buffets, you’re welcome to go and refill your plate! I was craving vegetables and everything was amazingly fresh and simple yet tasty. If there’s one thing I learned on this trip, it’s just how simply Italians cook their food and overall, it’s the quality of the ingredients that counts. As for carbs, the bread basket on our table provided enough for me – my favourite was the crispy sheets of baked pizza dough.

Blai had a pizza, which turned out to be Neapolitan style with a soft, chewy, puffy crust. It was as delicious as it was beautiful but of course, I have no idea what the best is, not having been to Naples!

The bill for our lunch was only €20 altogether. If you’re in Rome but are unable to get yourself to this part of the city, it seems that there are a number of places offering a buffet at lunchtime and I’d recommend trying one.

‘Gusto – Pizzeria
Piazza Augusto Imperatore, 9
00186 Rome, Italy

En mi primer viaje a la República Mexicana, hace poco más de veinte años atrás, quedé impresionadísima con el despliegue culinario del desayuno buffet en el hotel donde me estaba hospedando. Hasta entonces, la única comida mexicana que conocía eran los tacos. Pero en aquel buffet, que parecía un paisaje campestre, descubrí y saboreé manjares como la Cochinita Pibil, Chilaquiles, Tamales al estilo de Oaxaca y Tamales yucatecos, Mole rojo y Mole verde, Frijoles refritos, Sopes, Empanadas, Huitlacoches y Tortillas de maíz blanco, amarillo y morado con salsas picantes que variaban en color e intensidad. No me da vergüenza admitir que probé de todo hasta saciarme y que mas adelante acepté invitaciones de mis colegas a degustar aun más platillos regionales en otras ciudades de la República. En el Mercado de Oaxaca comí Tasajo, tragué sin mucho masticar los Chapulines (saltamontes curados en limón y chile) y perfumé mi paladar con Helado de Rosas. En el Puerto de Veracruz, donde probé Esquites (elote con crema, queso rayado y chile de árbol), quedé desencantada con el Vuelve a la Vida, un cóctel de mariscos en una salsa hecha a base de ketchup; en Mitla me embriagué con Mezcal y en Puebla sentí el efecto de las sabrosas Cemitas unas pocas horas después de haberme chupado los dedos del gusto. La vida es como un buffet mexicano. Hay sabores dulces y amargos, bocados que queman el paladar y otros que lo acarician, aromas inolvidables y otros que no quisieras recordar, platillos que elevan el espíritu y otros que lo doblegan, pero todos son dignos de probarse sin prejuicios ni expectativas. Así como he degustado los platillos de cada región que he visitado en la República Mexicana, he degustado cada experiencia que me ofrece la vida. Y así como he alimentado mi espíritu con la quietud de la luna, la sabiduría del crepúsculo, los escalofríos de un lago y la paz del amanecer, también lo he intoxicado con pasiones errantes, decisiones incongruentes y excesos descabellados. En la vida, como en la mesa, cuando enfocamos nuestra atención en disfrutar el momento, nuestro espíritu resplandece, nuestro cuerpo se rejuvenece y nuestro corazón titila. Simplemente irradias luz. Y cuando irradias luz atraes mas luz hacia ti, tu entorno toma otra perspectiva y la conexión que compartes con el resto del Universo se fortalece. Más que una necesidad, comer es un placer. La vida no tiene porque ser menos placentera. Bon Appétit

Señores Amigos del Teatro Municipal de Valparaíso, Señores miembros de la directiva de dicho centro, dueños de las empresas de pinturas, compadres de acuerdos de apoyo entre instituciones de educación superior y ciertos municipios, cabros de la esquina, señora del barrio, dueño de la botillería, almacenero, micrero, ascensorista, marino, marinero, pescador y obrero: ¿Qué mierda le hicieron al Teatro Municipal de Vuestra Ciudad?

No voy a preguntarle al Alcalde Castro, porque no va a ver el problema, pero, gente, sensanta, por favor, han levantado en pleno centro, en pleno corazón del puerto un monumento al mal gusto que ya es el colmo del desatino. ¿Cómo es posible que entre todos los colores posibles de escoger, seleccionen el que vela la posibilidad de reconocer en ese edificio un Teatro Municipal? ¿No basta con la plaza Sotomayor y toda su tropa de plomizos murallones? Hay acaso que resaltar la sequedad y desconsuelo que trae el desempleo a la región pintando de grisáseo el cobijo de las artes de la ciudad patrimonio? Sé que lo de cobijo de las artes es una ilusión, un trozo más de ficción, pero por último tiñán la cosa de color. Ahora, de “plomo”, este pedazo de cemento frente al congreso no sirve para ni siquiera para enriquecer el paisaje visual del puerto. Es una metida de patas de la institución que ha permitido esta manita de gato, que terminó siendo más que una manito y obviamente de un animal menos refinado que el gato, que cierra el vínculo de la alcaldía, la casa de estudios que apoya la pintura de la fachada del teatro y de las fuerzas armadas de manera frontal, directa y opaca.

Qué punto en contra para el puerto. Qué muestra más enorme de descriterio. Qué llamado de atención para los que están en pustos de calienta asientos, no dejen que unos pocos pinten de gris nuestra región.

Ve l’avevamo anticipata ed ecco pronta la recensione della Trattoria delle Zucche di Osmate: uno dei pochi ristoranti dove è possibile mangiare nell’arco della stessa sera fiorentina, pesce di lago, zucca, polenta e torta di banane senza dare luogo a un guazzabuglio informe… e già questo è un grande merito.
Nel frattempo abbiamo messo a disposizione anche nella Galleria del nostro sito un video piuttosto rappresentativo dell’ultima visita al Crotto da Gusto: buona visione!

Cuando intentas algo tienes la posibilidad de alcanzarlo o dejarlo en el cajón del olvido. Son muchos los que corren y vuelan anhelando ser felices, sin comprender que la felicidad no es sinónimo de vivir en un castillo de hadas o tener una barita mágica y traer a la realidad lo material; aquello que la sociedad ha establecido como algo significativamente importante. La felicidad es mas que poseer; la ambición por ser mejor y la perseverancia te lleva al éxito, a superar metas ya propuestas, pero eso o aquello, termina en un abrir y cerrar de ojos, y lo que realmente permanece, es la alegría, el gusto por disfrutar lo que obtienes, es así que la felicidad consiste en que cada uno le pueda sacar jugo a la fruta.

Innumerables personas desean ser millonarios y algunos con vastos esfuerzos lo logran, pero desafortunadamente muchos de ellos no lo pueden gozar, porque la delincuencia les impide, y con ello solo puedes pensar en que la felicidad no depende de cuanto tengas o lo humilde que seas, sino que eres feliz cuando vives para gozar de la tierra donde has sido plantado y aprendes a caminar aun por encima del fracaso o la derrota, dejando de quejarte, de llorar, para dar una sonrisa y un abrazo a los que te rodean, alejándote de tu mundo para ser parte de otros y aprender que la felicidad la alcanzas cuando dejas de ser tu mismo para prestarle atención a los regalos que la vida te ofrece. Cuando dejas tu orgullo y tu autosuficiencia y permites que alguien mas extienda sus manos para  ayudarte, entonces alcanzaras la felicidad; ésta se construye, y cada ser viviente te ofrece la posibilidad de alcanzarla siempre y cuando tu decidas recibir y dar “algo” que representa una cualidad o un valor, entonces muy pronto las lagrimas de tus ojos se secaran, el sin sabor de la vida será miel a tu paladar, y con ello te llevarás una gran sorpresa. Solo debes intentar descubrirla…

 Conoce más del tema haciendo clic aquí

Fellow travelers in this area of the blogosphere might be familiar with a guy named Justin, who runs the blog The Truth Shall Set You Free and occasionally comments at Elusive Wapiti’s, Anakin Niceguy’s, Φ’s, and The Spearhead. Justin is opposed to game, denouncing it as “evil and stupid” and claiming it fosters a “destructive” worldview. Thursday described him as a “hyper-moralist” on the spectrum of game detractors:

Hyper-Moralists – Don’t like the fact that the main discoverers and theorists of game are almost all libertines and/or nihlists. They also don’t like that game contains techniques for getting women to have premarital/extramarital sex, and that it seems too consciously manipulative.

In any case, I’m not interested in debating Justin or dissecting his arguments, as trying to have a debate with individuals like him is like trying to convince an Orthodox Jew to accept Jesus Christ as his personal savior. You might as well ram your head into the wall. However, I recently caught Justin in a little lie that has all but destroyed his credibility on this topic, so I’m calling him out on his flagrant dishonesty.

Justin wrote this over at Biblical Manhood:

E.W. [Elusive Wapiti] just did a post responding to a question from a Gamer about if he were unfortunate enough to have a daughter. That is the fruit if Game, to poison your outlook on women to the point where you would regret your own daughter’s birth.

There is just a teeny tiny problem with the statement above: it is completely wrong. Not subjectively wrong, but objectively “the sun rises in the east and sets in the west” wrong. The post that he’s talking about is “Mailbag: Gusto Hat Eine Frage,” published at The Spearhead last week. Elusive Wapiti was responding to reader Gusto who wrote this:

If I’m unfortunate enough to father a girl, what should I do to make sure she grows up with the right attitude?

Those are the only words from Gusto that Wapiti had in his post. Take a look at this sentence, folks. Is there any way to divine that Gusto practiced game from that one line, or that he even knows what game is? If your answer is “yes,” get me the name of your dealer so I can know what brain-damaging drugs you’ve been abusing in your free time. There is no evidence, none, that game had anything at all to do with Gusto’s question. Gusto himself left two comments on the post, one in which he defends himself against Justin’s assertion that he shouldn’t have kids and mentions he is a high-functioning autistic, and another in which he thanks Wapiti for answering his question. In neither comment is game mentioned or even hinted at, and since Gusto says he is autistic and implied he has difficulty understanding people in his first comment, I am confident in saying that he most likely does not practice game.

Additionally, while game is a frequent topic of conversation at the virtual Algonquin Round Table that is The Spearhead, Elusive Wapiti did not discuss, make reference to, or mention it in his post once. Not once. Not only that, game did not come up as a topic in the comments at all. Discounting the unrelated sidebar, searching for “game” in the post using Google Chrome’s word-finder feature turns up a grand total of three usages, listed below.

One comment from Jabherwochie:

The two Demaines continue to work closely together and have many joint works of both mathematics and art,[13] including three pieces of mathematical origami in the permanent collection of the Museum of Modern Art, New York;[14] their joint mathematical works focus primarily on the mathematics of folding and unfolding objects out of flat materials such as paper and on the computational complexity of games and puzzles.

One from Thursday:

As me and my teacher friends say, the kids just want to fuck and play videogames.

And one from Eumaios, quoting the above Thursday comment verbatim.

Unless you’re like Russell Crowe in A Beautiful Mind and able to divine secret messages from completely innocuous passages of text, there is no way to claim that ANY of the above statements have ANYTHING to do with game, consergame, seduction, or whatever you want to call the science of winning a woman’s sexual and romantic interest.

So what can we ascertain about our friend Justin from his tiny little fib here? There are two possible conclusions:

1. Justin is a liar who has no qualms with twisting the words of others in order to libel his opponents.
2. Justin is a moron who can’t read.

If you case his blog for a bit, you’ll find that Justin clearly isn’t stupid – in fact, he’s well informed and correct on a number of topics. Therefore, we’ll have to go with option number one.

Now, pardon me if I get this wrong, but isn’t there a Biblical commandment that forbids lying? “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor?” A God-fearing man such as Justin ought to know this. I wouldn’t make a huge deal out of this, but Justin is one of those hypocrites who wraps his arguments against game in a film of moral superiority. He even had the balls to call me a “moral degenerate.” And here he is, violating the very codes he is supposed to live his life by. I have no quarrel with the religious, but people who break the moral laws they use to attack me and my compadres just piss me off.

I never claimed to be a saint or even that good of a man, but I strive to be as honest as I can be. I despise liars and hypocrites, and if I had ever believed in God, my conception of hell would be something akin to Dante’s, with the aforementioned groups occupying prime real estate just above Satan’s chambers. If people oppose game, that’s their business, but I’ll not tolerate them lying to my face in a transparent, intelligence-insulting fashion. In his statement above, Justin has revealed himself to be a man lacking in both integrity and intellectual gravitas. Keep this post in mind the next time you catch him spewing his empty moral platitudes and sterotypical shaming language insults around the blogosphere.

You tangled with the wrong blogger, holmes. Now feel the pain.

Honestly, I did not look to see what other events or media appeared in 1996. From the moment the notion of Twenty-Three entered my head, I knew what would be featured in 1996. So, if you think I’m over-looking something amazing, I probably am. But, there has been nothing more influential in my life than gymnastics at the 1996 Olympic Games.

If  you remember anything from gymnastics in Atlanta, you probably remember Kerri Strug’s vault. It was a dramatic moment. The U.S. had entered the competition as the defending bronze medalists from the 1992 games in Barcelona, and from the 1995 World Championships, and were in serious contention for the gold medal. Kerri was last up on the last event of the competition, and was supposed to vault a yurchenko 1.5 twist (see video). She was to follow Dominique Moceanu on the event, and shockingly, Dominique had fallen on both of her vault attempts.

So, Kerri flung herself down the runway and over the vault, and she too landed on her ass. Limping noticeably, she walked back, prepared, and vaulted again. She stuck the landing, saluted the judges to signify completion, and crumbled in pain. She shot immediately into the limelight: Kerri Strug, it appeared, had won the gold medal for the U.S. team.

Now, I’ll give her that her vault  was pretty badass. But, a little known fact about that situation is that Kerri did not need to complete either vault to secure the gold, let alone the second vault on a severely sprained ankle. The format of competition at the time allowed for a score to be dropped. Of course, it would have been nice to drop Moceanu’s fall, but the team had competed nearly flawlessly up until the last two competitors on the last event and could have absorbed the mistake. Kerri’s vault made the team total higher, but had the team been forced to use Moceanu’s score and drop Strug’s, they still would have won.

This isn’t about the vault or Kerri Strug or anything else. This gymnastics team, dubbed the Magnificent Seven by the media, made history in being the first U.S. gymnastics team to win gold in either the Olympics or at a World Championships. As a nine year old, I was fascinated by this. I had always loved watching gymnastics on TV and made a habit of trying to imitate the moves: flips and turns on to  bean bag chairs and vaulting over furniture had always been the norm in my house. I had begged to do gymnastics, and was enrolled in dance classes, a tumbling class briefly, and a “gym and swim” class. It was all bullshit compared to the real thing, and in July of 1996, after watching the Mag 7 win the gold, I began laying it on thick and was finally enrolled in a gymnastics class in August.

I have never been so inspired by anything in my life. I was mesmerized by gymnastics and filled with a sense that I had to do that. I fell in love with Moceanu’s “Devil Went Down to Georgia” floor routine, and I remember watching Shannon Miller’s beam routine from event finals that won her an individual gold medal while having a friend sleep over at my house.

So, I took complete advantage of the opportunity I was given in August. I walked into the gym, got my first whiff of the thick chalky air that always smelt like feet and sweat, and never looked back. Immediately identified as talented (later identified as a head case), I leapt through the beginners levels and by the end of my first year was on the competitive team (a feat that by gym standards takes at least 3 years, but typically 4 or 5). I was never setting any world records, but I poured my entire life into gymnastics and was at least respectable at it.  5 years post-gymnastics, I still have some really cool party tricks.

I’ve never had a love affair with anything or anyone quite as intense as my relationship with gymnastics. I couldn’t get enough and I hated it all the same time. It was my coping mechanism and it was my reason to need to cope. Gymnastics defined me from the very first day that I walked into Deary’s Gymnastics until months after the last time I walked out. It probably still defines me and is largely responsible for a huge portion of my personality traits: I’m a fighter and I don’t know when to give up, I don’t quit anything under any circumstance, I never walk away if I’m scared, I’m stubborn, and falls, injuries and pain really do not phase me.

I still have callused hands. I have permanently dented shins. I have an ankle that still swells to three times its normal size if I walk more than a half mile or if it rains. I owe these things to gymnastics (and to the worst orthopedic doctor in Connecticut).

The Magnificent 7; Amanda Borden, Amy Chow, Dominique Dawes, Shannon Miller, Dominique Moceanu, Jaycie Phelps, and Kerri Strug, walked into the Georgia Dome, onto my television set and into my life. In a single week of competition they inspired me enough to get me through the next 10 years.

Check out a few kind of cool routines from ‘96 (you might want to mute the commentators):

Sono finalmente on line le foto “artistiche” della nostra ultima visita dell’anno al Crotto da Gusto, prima della chiusura invernale. Si tratta in realtà di una ristretta selezione delle moltissime immagini scattate da noi e dai nostri adepti, almeno da quelli che sono sopravvissuti al pranzo… Ancora una volta la giornata ha riscosso grande succsso e la signora Giulia, la padrona di casa, è stata ammirevole sia ai fornelli, sia nel sopportare le nostre intemperanze. Leggete la recensione aggiornata del Crotto!
Su Facebook sono disponibili ulteriori foto e un reperto video esclusivo (anche su YouTube).

A scuola di thé

L’obiettivo che si prefigge questa scuola, istituita dal “Palais du Thés”, è quello di far scoprire tutto su questa pianta da infusione: le origini di questo delicato infuso, i migliori modi per gustarlo, i meccanismi del sapore, le numerose varietà di thé e tanto altro ancora.

Carine Baudry, Mathias Minet e Francois Xavier Delmas, i professori di questa particolare scuola, sanno rendere accessibili e di facile apprendimento anche gli argomenti più tecnici come, per esempio, il processo olfattivo e gustativo.

Ogni lezione rappresenta da un lato un’occasione unica per carpire preziosi segreti sull’arte ancestrale di preparare questo infuso ambrato e dall’altro un momento in cui poter gustare qualità di thè provenienti da tutto il mondo.
I progressi del vostro odorato e del vostro gusto saranno rapidi e sorprendenti e sarete rapidamente in grado di apprezzare le differenti sfumature di gusto.

Palais des Thés
L’Ecole de Thé
64, rue Vieille du Temple
75003 Paris 

www.palaisdesthes.com

Fervono i preparativi per la giornata di domani: tutto è pronto per l’ennesima ascesa al Crotto da Gusto, tempio della cucina montanara che ancora una volta accoglierà la nostra adunata oceanica (si vocifera della presenza di oltre 40 persone) prima di chiudere i battenti per il meritato riposo invernale. Se riusciremo anche stavolta a sopravvivere, vi promettiamo un reportage dettagliato dell’evento.
In caso contrario questo sarà il nostro ultimo post e, quindi, vi lasciamo un buon consiglio dedicato a chi non avrà la fortuna di partecipare al pranzo di domani. La Trattoria Pegaso di Gavardo, in provincia di Brescia, organizza ogni mercoledì serate di degustazione, spesso abbinate a eventi culturali: l’11 novembre, ad esempio, gli assaggi dei vini della cantina siciliana “Centopassi” saranno seguiti dalla proiezione dell’omonimo film di Peppino Impastato e da una cena a tema al prezzo di 30 euro. Il 18 novembre incontro dedicato ai vini friulani, il 25 panel di assaggio “Gli oli italiani”. Il tutto accompagnato dalla cucina del risotrante, che a quanto si dice merita una visita. Per info: tel.0365-372719
Vi ricordiamo che per rimanere aggiornati su tutti i prossimi eventi potete iscrivervi alla nostra newsletter: il numero di novembre è in distribuzione proprio oggi.

Nel calore di una baita di montagna …..in Riva al Mare, il Ristorante Taaf,organizza una Serata all’insegna di Bistecche, Patatine, Castagne e Vino Rosso.Il tutto nell’avvolgente atmosfera del Nostro crepitante Camino.
E dopo tutti a Cantare al Karaoke…. beh,fate voi….

Una novità al Taaf, cena omaggio Donna,messaggeria con premio e dulcis in fundo open bar con dj set ad opera del nostro caro Fabian!!!! Per una serata alla grande ci siamo noi del Taaf, per tutto il resto cè……..vi aspettiamo!!!!!

Pinchando en esta imagen accedéis a una página en la podeis ver las partes de los sentidos y sus funciones.

If you have been following me for a while, you know that my wife Lisa is an animal lover.

She has always wanted to own an animal shelter, to rescue animals, that kinda stuff.  Around June we agreed to buy a house with 5 acres about 20 minutes south of where we are now. A bit more away from the hustle and bustle, but 10 minutes from the Hwy. and 15 minutes from our office.  As we were walking the land,  she is envisioning her shelter.  Later, I started wondering…. So I asked her a simple question.  Would she be able to let the animals go, or would we end up with 123 dogs, 217 cats, 4 hamsters, 3 rabbits and an alpaca?

After a few days, she came back to me and said yes she could let them go if she knew they were going to a good home, that seemed reasonable. How would we determine if it is a good home, run a background check like we do people who move in to our houses? Well of course she said, we NEED to know that they are good people!  I get that part, I just know if anyone would be OK with a private detective looking up their history for an animal adoption…. But that is just me.

So a few months back, she was our friend Richard Roops house in Colorado, and she met Richards Business coach Dr Bill Hendricks.  they sat down over some lunch and talked. Dr. Hendricks wife works with puppies and raises them to become helper dogs, dogs who help the handicapped.  So another idea started flowing….

Shortly after that trip, Lisa was invited to go to Ohio and visit the facility, and learn more about the programs, anyone wanna guess the outcome?  Well, she applied to be a trainer and went through an approval process. Several weeks ago, she was told that she was approved and we would get 30 days notice when to be ready for her puppy.  There is some humor here…. We got a call last Friday, asking how fast could we get there, her puppy is ready!   So much for 30 days!

Here We Go!

So we called our carpet guy, and said we needed him, NOW. He came and did his thing, and shot down to Ohio Sunday night. The following morning we went to the facility.  There was this blond ball of fire…hence the name Gusto.  All I can think about is a hurricane!

So we drove home, what was 5 hours down was over 7 1/2  back, seems puppy like potty breaks more than I do!

Keep an eye out for more Gutso info, and shoot Lisa an email at sspropinvestments@sbcglobal.net and give her your support. This is 100% a  not for profit venture, just giving back. If you would like to help out and support Gusto she would love to get your check. We are covering this all out of our pocket, the vet, the food, the travel etc.

Our students will see this blond little poop machine, since will be taking him with us everywhere. As a working dog,  he needs to acclimated to all kinds of environments, like banks, restaurants,  etc…

So now it is time to go see what is tore up NOW.

Always be a servant

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