Cortobeille and Mr Bird

Il revient , Albator...

2008-12-30T04:20:00.000-08:00

...le capitaine corsaire, il revient Albator...
Heureux qui, comme lui, a fait un beau voyage,
Ou comme cestuy-là qui conquit la toison,
Et puis est retourné, plein d'usage et raison,
Vivre dans sa ville une partie de son âge...

9 Novembre 1989

2007-11-09T02:51:00.000-08:00

Le Mur est tombé !Le mur de Berlin, édifié en 1961 pour séparer les blocs Est et Ouest, chute enfin, permettant la réunion des deux Allemagnes (RFA-RDA). Berlin redevient en 1991 la capitale de cette Allemagne réunifiée. Cet événement marque l’implosion du bloc soviétique, l'échec et la fin du système communiste à l’Est. Le monde bipolaire de la guerre froide n’est plus. L’équilibre planétaire est à redéfinir. L’Amérique, orpheline de son ennemi traditionnel, devient l'unique superpuissance du globe. Avantage ou inconvénient ? ...

J'avais 9 ans...un des premiers grands évènements politiques qui ont marqué ma vie...quand nous allions en Scandinavie, la pancarte indiquant Berlin me faisait toujours rêver...

a few seconds of pure talent...

2007-10-31T09:49:00.000-07:00

les publicistes sont vraiment des gens incroyables...quel talent! ...quelques secondes de pur génie parfois...connaissez-vous cette pub pour la vodka Smirnoff?non ? alors asseyez-vous, bien calé dans votre fauteuil, écoutez et regardez...
Musique maestro !!!
allez, vous reprendrez bien un verre, histoire de vous remettre...
What do you think ? isn't that ad incredible ? take just a second to imagine it was real ...
now, sure you need a break...so let's relax...let's enjoy good music, jazzy kind, you still have a vodka to drink...and look...what's that , this little coloured spot...look...
here...

Did you enjoy the break? la balade vous a plu ? see you next time ...à la prochaine...

Cuba 27 October 1492

2007-10-27T09:28:00.000-07:00

1492 le 27 octobre
"L'Amérique, l'Amérique..."Christophe Colomb pose le pied sur la terre cubaine : habité depuis plusieurs millénaires par les Tainos, des potiers, des tisserands ou cultivateurs, Cuba est envahi, juste après sa "découverte", par les Espagnols qui prennent la christianisation pour prétexte. Ils pilleront en fait les mines de cuivre et d'or avant de massacrer les Tainos jusqu'à les faire disparaître. Ils importeront en conséquence de nombreux esclaves d'Afrique pour le travail de la canne à sucre qui fera la fortune des colons.

Now let's close our eyes and dream Colomb never landed on this beautiful island...let's dream black men and women were never taken from Afica and sold to rich people ...let's imagine Tainos were still alive weaving, cultivating the ground...having their own faith and traditions...let's dream my favorite island was free...

souvenirs...???...

2007-10-24T04:55:00.000-07:00

Je ne saurai jamais où finissent mes souvenirs et où commencent mes rêves...où se situe l'éveil, où git le sommeil...lectures....lectures...

de Christophe Donner à Rimbaud tout se mêle dans ma tête...où a commencé ma vie, la vraie, pas celle de l'enfance, celle que je choisis, que je construis...dans les aéroports, les nuits de Grenoble, les trains , les bars ou les hôtels...tout gamin je traverse Amsterdam les yeux fermés, longe le quartier rouge , me repère grâce au Musée du sexe...je marche sur les sentiers de montagne, au bord des lacs et des fleuves, foule le sable des plages et suit les trottoirs des villes...

"Etonnants voyageurs" où m'emmenez-vous ? tout petit vous m'avez enfermé entre vos pages et me voici adulte, pas encore réveillé du voyage...au bord d'un lac...près de ma montagne...ma vraie mère c'est elle...quand je la retrouve je pousse un soupir de soulagement, je suis à la maison, le reste n'était que parenthèses...là je repire, enfin, je travaille, je vis...et peu à peu je me souviens , et peu à peu je rêve...il n'est pas important que les souvenirs soient vrais ou faux, ce qui comptent c'est le plaisir qui subsiste...et le fait qu'il nous donne envie de continuer à marcher...à avancer...

Il y a peu le car venait de s'arrêter dans un quartier triste et gris...mon sac sur le dos je m'engouffrai dans un bar...peu à peu la drogue perdait son effet hallucinogène...je commandai une vodka Red Bull et posai une liasse de billets sur la table...dollars, roubles, ou pesetas, ? j'ai oublié...le barman commençait à me draguer...j'hésitai...quand soudain...

"Eh Cortobeille ! tu dors ? allez il faut partir, le jour se lève..."

Mr Bird venait d'arriver, une fois de plus j'étais sauvé...

From Mousie to Cortobeille...

2007-10-23T08:24:00.000-07:00

Last night I received this mail :
"Hi Mousie what the news in Brittany? good or bad? in Geneva the news aren't too bad... Tomorrow I go to Lausanne to see the city center ...see you ...
Cortobeille
PS: don't forget to change my blog"
So, there you are...working near the Swiss frontier, exploring a new country, dreaming of new places...I sometimes forget I'm only the secretary in this blog...I often forget it's YOUR blog, not mine...People will ask how much do you pay me for the job ?I can answer, good packets of tea nice books to read, some fine magazines, yummy recipes, a digital camera once (lucky me !)...and so many other things...
so now I must stick to what I promised...write your ideas and not mine...
But I must tell readers a few things, hope you won't mind...

Cortobeille is a very special guy...You never really know if he really did what he said and if he 'll say what he did...He has a queer definition of Truth...
"Dream is truth and truth is dream" could be one of his favorite saying...My friend Gledwood would also say
"Beauty is truth and truth beauty;
That is all ye know on earth
And all ye need to know"
and I do agree, so welcome to the new blog...
And Mr Bird, who is Mr Bird ? We'll tell you more next time...you may see him on the "photo" on top of the side-bar, he's standing on the window sill...where does he come from ? ....

Anniversary...Anniversaire...

2007-08-07T08:45:00.000-07:00

1786 le 7 août
Première ascension du mont Blanc

Cette ascension marque le début de l'alpinisme au XVIIIe siècle : Gabriel-Michel Paccard (médecin), et Jacques Balmat (chasseur), relèvent le défi de Horace Bénédict de Saussure qui promettait une récompense au premier qui atteindrait le sommet du mont Blanc.

1786 August the 7th

Gabriel-Michel Paccard and Jacques Balmat reached the top of Mont-Blanc...

Gilles Vigneault il me reste un pays

2007-08-07T04:55:00.001-07:00

Il me reste un pays à connaître, je n'ai fait que l'apercevoir...j'avais quinze ans...

Etonnants voyageurs, Graham's travels...memories...

2007-07-29T02:38:00.000-07:00

Graham posted a great video on his blog, Paint your wagon, I was born under a wandering star, Lee Marvin...
I posted it as well underneath, please listen to it...it's great...Thank you Graham...
This is the film...the film that carries out dreams...the film Corto would love...
I was about 10 when I attended Saint-Malo book- festival for the first time...
Mum told me I was crying so much when leaving it...So many books, so many films, so many writers...
I there discovered American litterature, travel books, great writers Harrison, Bouvier, Pratt, Hillerman, Welsh, all Montana writers...all the writers you meet through Oldwoman's pages...

....................................

The great adventure had started from this photo...We were going to take the ferry...Can you imagine this was Puttgarden!!! I was 4...
I was a happy kid...when very small I used to sleep in the baskets full of wool or fabrics in the afternoon, near the sewing machine...Mum stopped teaching to be with me all the time...I don't know if it was right or wrong, she doesn't either...may be it's not good to give a child such a dreamy life...not much money but so many stories to listen to, walks together, afternoons in libraries or bookshops, second hand shops for books and clothes, markets ...I could chose the colours of the fabrics and the wools to make my clothes, chose my books...
When a clothe was a bit shabby I could chose between having it mended by mum and buying a book or buying a new clothe...so mum always made my clothes and I had plenty books...
and later the old camping- van and Dad and sister sometimes and the travels up to the north...we travelled so slowly we never reached Cap north...I had my sleeping bag made by mum, all red and printed with animals...I could sleep anywhere ...when leaving home we had a big bag of books, dictionnaries and later my Quid, Mum her wools to knit and exchange stiches with other women even in Saamis country......I also had my small bag with anything I wanted inside, but just one bag...when coming home, the toys had disappeared along the roads, exchanged with other kids, I also had old tins, wood, stones, papers of all sorts...i have so many memories...One day German men gave me a small car ...one day I was given chocolate ...I had friends everywhere of all ages...i was at home everywhere...coming back at night dirty, wet , sun-tanned ...so happy...a young wild boy...a happy kid...
One day we went to Scandinavia for the first time, stopped in Scanie , near a farm...Mum opened the old book and started reading aloud...I was going to meet my best friend Nils Holgerson...We followed him...we followed Akka...I still follow him...

And one day we were going to meet Norway , Lofoten Islands and the place I always dream about : A...with a little ° on top of the A...say o in Norvegian...but that's another story...

Paint your Wagon

2007-07-29T02:31:00.001-07:00

The song I love...The film I love...

La France te manque-t-elle ? Do you miss France?

2007-07-14T09:25:00.000-07:00

Non, pas vraiment...
Le café oui, je rêve d'un bon arabica, corsé, parfumé...
Je pense équitable bien sûr...

I once, visited Scotland...

2007-07-13T09:17:00.000-07:00

What is a Haggis ?
A haggis is a small animal native to Scotland. Well when I say animal, actually it's a bird with vestigial wings - like the ostrich. Because the habitat of the haggis in exclusively mountainous, and because it is always found on the sides of Scottish mountains, it has evolved a rather strange gait. The poor thing has only three legs, and each leg is a different length - the result of this is that when hunting haggis, you must get them on to a flat plain - then they are very easy to catch - they can only run round in circles.
One day I met another specy, quite different, a rather plumpie one, who had eaten too much sausage...(and haggis!!!)
After catching your haggis, and dispatching it in time honoured fashion, it is cooked in boiling water for a period of time, then served with tatties and neeps (and before you ask, that's potatoes and turnips).
It's generally served on Burns'night, January the 25th...and it's quite a treat...
Want some recipes ?
And don't forget, before you start dining, to address the Haggis:

Address to the Haggis

******

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,

Great Chieftan o' the Puddin-race!

Aboon them a' ye tak your place,

Painch, tripe, or thairm:

Weel are ye wordy of a grace

As lang's my arm.

Now, enjoy your meal, and let's pray for the poor little beastie...

a yummy book...livre savoureux...

2007-07-11T10:46:00.000-07:00

Sur la page de gauche, un extrait de polar célèbre, sur celle de droite une délicieuse recette...

On the left , excerpts from famous detective stories, on the right a delicious recipe...

La poésie et le bon vin...

2007-07-11T10:29:00.000-07:00

Le vin du solitaire
de Charles Baudelaire
Le regard singulier d'une femme galante
Qui se glisse vers nous comme le rayon blanc
Que la lune onduleuse envoie au lac tremblant,
Quand elle y veut baigner sa beauté nonchalante ;
Le dernier sac d'écus dans les doigts d'un joueur ;
Un baiser libertin de la maigre Adeline ;
Les sons d'une musique énervante et câline,
Semblable au cri lointain de l'humaine douleur,
Tout cela ne vaut pas, ô bouteille profonde,
Les baumes pénétrants que ta panse féconde
Garde au coeur altéré du poète pieux ;
Tu lui verses l'espoir, la jeunesse et la vie,
-Et l'orgueil, ce trésor de toute gueuserie,
Qui nous rend triomphants et semblables aux Dieux !

Walt Whitman - One Hour to Madness and Joy.

2007-06-24T08:01:00.000-07:00

It's pouring with rain...time for dream and poetry...
Hi! Walt Whitman you're my friend !
With all respect...
......................................
ONE hour to madness and joy!
O furious! O confine me not!
(What is this that frees me so in storms?
What do my shouts amid lightnings and raging winds mean?)

O to drink the mystic deliria deeper than any other man!
O savage and tender achings!
(I bequeath them to you, my children,
I tell them to you, for reasons, O bridegroom and bride.)

O to be yielded to you, whoever you are, and you to be yielded to me, in defiance of the
world!
O to return to Paradise! O bashful and feminine!
O to draw you to me—to plant on you for the first time the lips of a determin’d
man!

O the puzzle—the thrice-tied knot—the deep and dark pool! O all untied and
illumin’d!
O to speed where there is space enough and air enough at last!
O to be absolv’d from previous ties and conventions—I from mine, and you from
yours!
O to find a new unthought-of nonchalance with the best of nature!
O to have the gag remov’d from one’s mouth!
O to have the feeling, to-day or any day, I am sufficient as I am!

O something unprov’d! something in a trance!
O madness amorous! O trembling!
O to escape utterly from others’ anchors and holds!
To drive free! to love free! to dash reckless and dangerous!
To court destruction with taunts—with invitations!
To ascend—to leap to the heavens of the love indicated to me!
To rise thither with my inebriate Soul!
To be lost, if it must be so!
To feed the remainder of life with one hour of fulness and freedom!
With one brief hour of madness and joy.

2007-06-16T10:52:00.000-07:00

reading Gordon Ramsay's autobiography...his father just been cremated...
"Ater that, I drove back to London and I went straight to the kitchen. I was there, on the pass, working as hard asever, trying not to think-or at least, to think only about the next order. I don't think I've ever needed my kitchen so much in all my life"...

A new town...Back to England...

2007-06-15T03:36:00.000-07:00

Hi everybody...Here I am...with a new page and a new town...Birmingham UK...
I didn't know the West Midlands...actually I didn't know industrial England...
So many things to discover here...what remains of old industries, new activities,
and people from Asia and Middle-East...
Plenty little streets, shops...food to eat along the streets...new languages, new colours,new sounds...I love it...I've got six months to fill my memories...

Longabeille needs Corto's help...

2007-03-16T13:53:00.000-07:00

Now listen my friend...

I have a small problem...

How could I say it...

I think I'm falling in love...

and...and...

how could I tell her?

Cortobeille's language...

2007-02-18T03:12:00.000-08:00

I went off with my hands in my torn coat pockets;
My overcoat too was becoming ideal;
I travelled beneath the sky, Muse! and I was your vassal;
Oh dear me! what marvellous loves I dreamed of!
My only pair of breeches had a big whole in them.
– Stargazing Tom Thumb, I sowed rhymes along my way.
My tavern was at the Sign of the Great Bear.
– My stars in the sky rustled softly.
And I listened to them, sitting on the road-sides
On those pleasant September evenings while I felt drops
Of dew on my forehead like vigorous wine;
And while, rhyming among the fantastical shadows,
I plucked like the strings of a lyre the elastics
Of my tattered boots, one foot close to my heart!

As translated by Oliver Bernard: Arthur Rimbaud, Collected Poems

mail to Mereabeille...

2007-02-14T02:37:00.000-08:00

Cortobeille said :
1) you can't write and speak about Cortobeille if don't speak Cortobeille's language
2) Cortobeille's isn't only a special language it's also a philosophy ..so you must respect this philosophy
3) if you see two moons in the sky maybe you understand this religion or philosophy.Hugo Pratt my father has left a message from another world or life . but close you eyes and listen to the song: " Crazy"

Cortobeille, are you allright? this picture isn't very straight...

How many moons are in your sky ?

so delicious...the macaroon...

2007-02-01T04:47:00.000-08:00

"Your first macaroon?" "-In a lift...I was with a journalist friend who was carrying a splendid green box. I asked her what it was. She opened it without a word, and I took a chocolate macaroon. I ate it slowly between the first and the ninth floors. I knew straight away that I was in another world, swept away by the ganache filling, the quintessence of pleasure..." (Marie-Clémence Barbé-Conti, journalist)

small...round...crisp...smooth...delicate...soft...subtle...airy...so yummy...a real special treat...

You eat one then two, then...raspberry, chocolate, pistachio, rose, violet, mint, vanilla, caramel, hazelnut, poppy, liquorice, cherry, blackcurrant...and...and...I can't go on...

A jolly good fellow!

2007-01-25T12:05:00.000-08:00

I spent three months in Scotland and God I did love it...so today I must join Scots from everywhere to wish Robert Burns a happy birthday...I know he left us a very long time ago, but though he would be 248 years young today, he's well alived in our hearts...
So Ladies and Gentlemen, listen to him: bagpipes please...

Address to a haggis

Ye Pow'rs, wha mak mankind you care

And dish them out their bill o'fare,

And Scotland wants nae skinging fare

That jaups in luggies;

But , if ye wish her gratefu'prayer

Gie her a haggis.

Chartreuse, I love you...

2006-12-24T09:28:00.000-08:00

Here I am, back to the mountains, so cheers everybody...let's celebrate the French Alps and visit this Drink boy.

You'll find recipes, ideas of books...It's very useful...

GREEN CHARTREUSE is the only liqueur in the world with a completely natural green colour.
It is powerful and unique.
Only two Chartreuse monks know the identity of the 130 plants, how to blend them and how to distill them into this world famous liqueur. They are also the only ones who know which plants they have to macerate to produce the natural green and yellow colours. And they alone supervise the slow ageing in oak casks.

Milder and sweeter than the famous Green Chartreuse, YELLOW CHARTREUSE was introduced to the world in 1838. It also is presented in the traditional Chartreuse liqueur bottle embossed with the seal of La Grande Chartreuse. Its colour is entirely natural with no artificial flavours or preservatives. It, too, can be enjoyed neat or in a long drink...

But don't worry, I'm not an alcoholic, just a waiter and a man who loves good things...

I'm back in the mountains...

2006-12-15T13:10:00.000-08:00

Joseph Campbell " I Am the Mountainy Singer"

I AM the mountainy singer—
The voice of the peasant's dream,
The cry of the wind on the wooded hill,
The leap of the fish in the stream.

Quiet and love I sing—
The carn on the mountain crest,
The cailin in her lover's arms,
The child at its mother's breast.

Beauty and peace I sing—
The fire on the open hearth,
The cailleach spinning at her wheel,
The plough in the broken earth.

Travail and pain I sing—
The bride on the childing bed,
The dark man laboring at his rhymes,
The eye in the lambing shed.

Sorrow and death I sing—
The canker come on the corn,
The fisher lost in the mountain loch,
The cry at the mouth of morn.

No other life I sing,
For I am sprung of the stock
That broke the hilly land for bread,
And built the nest in the rock!

AIDS

2006-12-04T16:00:00.001-08:00

Listen everybody,

Listen, that poem is for us...

Click here , please...

2006-11-10T10:44:00.001-08:00

The first time I ever feel concerned...The oldest ancient soldier in France is 107 years old...

Remembrance Day (Australia, Canada, Colombia, UK and Ireland), also known as Poppy Day (South Africa and Malta), and Armistice Day (UK, New Zealand and many other Commonwealth countries; and the original name of the holiday internationally) is a day to commemorate the sacrifice of veterans and civilians in World War I and other wars. It is observed on November 11 to recall the end of World War I on that date in 1918. The observance is specifically dedicated to members of the armed forces who were killed during war, and was created by King George V of the United Kingdom on November 7, 1919, possibly upon the suggestion of Edward George Honey though Wellesley Tudor Pole established two ceremonial periods of remembrance based on events in 1917.

the word happiness

2006-11-07T08:58:00.000-08:00

So I'm back to France for a few months...La Plagne, in the beautiful French Alps, not bad for winter season, isn't it!
so back to Tartiflette, nice cheeses, and a gorgeous "green chaud "from time to time...don't know what it is? hot chocolate, strong and creamy with a little "liqueur de Chartreuse" the green one...a nice deck-chair, the sun, the snow all around and a "green chaud..."
Happiness....

Important comment

2006-11-07T08:54:00.000-08:00

B.T.Bear Esq. said...
OOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you thank you thank you! My dad was a chef in the navy and he brought home recipes for 'Beef Wellington' also 'Poor Man's Wellington', which uses minced beef instead. They were delicious. Thank you for the reminder. I shall certainly have a go now I have a clear recipe. Wow. This is yummy!
Helena,Bob's mum
I had to post Helena's comment, first to say the beef Wellington cortobeille was delicious, and than it was so nice to have a comment from the daughter of a good English chef...We are very proud, thank you dear and we'll try the" Poor Man's Wellington"...

did I tell you I can cook?

2006-10-29T09:48:00.000-08:00

My sister's family is coming for lunch on the 1st of November, I'm obliges tp prepare an English meal of course...I'd like to cook some beef...
Beef Wellington
3 lbs. trimmed filet of beefsalt and pepper

Duxelles:1 lb. mushrooms diced fine3
T. shallots2 T. butter3 T. Maderia3/4 lb.
gruyere cheese shredded
1 package frozen puff pastry
Brown filet of beef, with salt and pepper, in a large skillet, browning quickly on all sides, about 10 minutes.
Chill immediately.
To make duxelles:
Add butter to same skillet and add mushrooms.
Quickly saute over medium high heat until liquid is removed from the mushrooms, about 10 minutes, stirring while cooking.
Turn heat down, add shallots and Maderia, cook until all liquid has evaporated.
Cool.Unwrap puff pastry and join the 2 pieces together at the long ends. Press to seal well. Spread cheese down the center and top with 1/2 of the duxelle mixture.
Place filet on top of mushrooms. Fold up ends of puff pastry around beef. Trim excess puff pastry. Press edges together to seal edges.
Place seam side down on a greased baking sheet.
Using puff pastry scraps decorate the top. (You can cut out leaves with a cookie cutter and form long ropes with the pastry.) Brush 1 beaten egg over the puff pastry and refrigerate.
Bake 18-20 minutes at 400 degrees F. for medium rare, until pastry is golden brown.
You can do this in the morning before your dinner party if you choose.
Don't cover the pastry once the egg glaze is on it.
Maderia Sauce
Saute 1/2 C. each of carrot, celery and onion until tender. Add 2 C. beef broth, 1 bay leaf, 1/2 C. Maderia Wine and cook another 10 minutes. Strain broth back into a sauce pan and add remaining duxelle mixture. Bring to a boil and thicken with 3 T. cornstarch and 3 T. water. Season to taste with salt and pepper.To serve:Let the beef set for 10 minutes before serving. Serve the Maderia Sauce on the side.
Note: You can also do these as individual servings. Slice the filet into 1 1/2 inch thick slices. Saute the beef pieces on each side 2 minutes over high heat. Cool. Cut circles of the puff pastry (I use a soup bowl and cut around the outside edge) and repeat the steps from above.

Jim Harrison, food, Russia...

2006-10-17T09:54:00.000-07:00

Food, food is my life...I live on it...I don't live for it mind you ! but as I work in restaurants as a waiter I live on food...I spend my life in hotels, and we meet extraordinary people sometimes...I remember Etonnants voyageurs in Saint Malo...I was a kid but will never forget the huge man who's Jim Harrison...That would be so nice to meet him ...
In a small book called"Letters to Essenine" he pays a vibrant hommage to the russian poet who commited suicide in 1925...those letters are so full of life, of death, of hope and despair...
"My eyes misted and I heard fiddle music...how did I get gout? all that fried salt and side pork as a child. Humble fare. Quintuple heaps of caviar and decanters of vodka at the Hotel Europa in Leningrad. Tête de veau, the brains, tongue and cheeks of a calf. sideorders of tripe à la mode de Caen sweetbreads with morels. Stewed kidneys and heart.....but you know Sergei, I must eat these magical trifles to keep from getting brainy and sad, to avoid leaving this physical world."
I don't know Leningrad but do remember Saint Petersburg, Hôtel Astoria, we were so poor we only had a salad and drunk water...all the money was spent for the room...bu a salad in Astoria has a magical taste...the waiter spoke very good French...he learnt it with the newspapers left by guests in the rooms...

De Gronne slagtere, The green butchers...

2006-10-15T03:24:00.000-07:00

Mereabeille and Old woman should go out more often...I went to the movies with Docabeille and we saw such a good film...fun, tears, reflexion, it's so difficult to find words...
you must see it that's all...
Jansen was watching the news and asked himself: how far people may go to succeed?...that was the very beginning...

Svend and Bjarne work for a butcher in a small Danish town. Fed up with their boss' arrogance, they decide to start their own butcher shop. After dismal beginnings, an unfortunate accident happens which coincides with a large order of meat. One hasty decision leads to another and soon the business thrives. In the meantime, Bjarne has to deal with his twin brother who has been in coma for years following a gruesome car accident.

travelling...I'm leaving soon...

2006-09-29T09:46:00.000-07:00

If you don’t travel

I always marvel
Whenever I travel
Because if you don’t travel
And extensively explore
How can you open those awaiting doors?
Mysteries always lie waiting to be unraveled

Ready to leave for new horizons...I have to do it...I have to go on searching my truth...
Oldwoman gave me this poem, to put in my head and my bag...
***********************
I travel with my eyes
Watching those silently cry
Asking themselves the question why
Someone left them without saying goodbye

I travel with my thoughts
Abundant knowledge
I have found and soughtI travel with my pen
To write about children, women and men

I travel with my voice
Speaking sensibly refusing to induce confusing noise
I travel with hope
Believing something new will spring into my horoscope
Whether in Africa or whether in Europe
There is always room, there is always scope

I travel to many places
Mix with different culture and races
Identify tribes by their faces
Everyone I always embrace
I travel with or without money
So please listen to my testimony
Every experience is worth lifes journey

I travel with intensive faith
Lavishing love rather than being defensive with hate
Because if you don’t travel
How can you grow?
How can you know,
What is beneath the dust and below the gravel?

Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi

yummy...

2006-09-21T14:40:00.000-07:00

from the "Los Angeles Times", that's a real poem...
By Dario CecchiniSeptember 20, 2006
LEGEND has it that a Tuscan, traveling in the north, ordered an oven-baked veal shank and, finding it quite good, set about improving it.Starting with a shank of boned beef (as he didn't care for the virginal pallor of veal), he removed the marrow from the bone and recomposed the meat with the marrow inside, adding sea salt, crushed black pepper and rosa di mare (what we today call "rosemary").
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He cooked it with shallots and olive oil in a covered casserole. Then, somewhat alarmed by the delicious carnality of the result, he "blessed" it with Vino Xantos(vin santo or holy wine).The sheer pleasure provoked by eating this dish was such that for centuries it was forbidden to virgins under the age of 20.This ban fell into disuse with the passage of time as it became more difficult to find them (virgins, that is).Heat your oven to 180 degrees Celsius. You need olive oil and 1 kilogram of peeled shallots. Add half a glass of vin santo after 90 minutes. Cook for three hours in all.And that is that.— Dario Cecchini

Slow food

2006-09-15T01:35:00.000-07:00

"Slow food was founded in 1986. It's an international organization whose aim is to protect the pleasures of the table from the homogenization of modern fast food and life.Through a variety of initiatives it promotes gastronomic culture, develops agricultural biodiversity and protects traditional foods at risk of extinction. It now boasts over 80,000 members in over 100 countries."
Working in hotels and restaurants, I care about this...so I'll let you know when I find interesting sites ...

food and beverage

2006-09-15T01:26:00.000-07:00

I just add the link to Greatfood.ie. You may suscribe, it's a free newsletter. You'll find informations about recipes, ingredients, books, wines...a useful glossary about wines...it's really worth the visit...

message for Alexiabeille

2006-09-06T09:53:00.000-07:00

I served this nice drink in the bar yesterday. Guests loved it.That would be nice if you could make some elderflowers cordial next spring. And by the way, elderberries are ripe, so time for jelly and elderberry wine.
Ask Sisabeille and Mereabeille, they 'll help you...not Docabeille, I don't rely on him (he tastes too often!). Thank you dear.

2006-08-28T03:46:00.000-07:00

If you go through Amsterdam , visit the "Grand Hotel Krasnapolsky", it's a gorgeous place, one of these hotels you see in films or novels...Go to the bar , have a drink, for very little money you'll travel in time and luxury...

no wonder why I love Scandinavia...

2006-08-01T03:32:00.000-07:00

I was such a little boy and it was such a large and great country...

The Moomins
Nils , Emil, Pippi...

Selma Lagerloff, Tove Jansson, Astrid Lindgren...the three Scandinavian women I love...

music maestro....love that song....

2006-07-31T03:26:00.000-07:00

I remember when,
I remember,
I remember when I lost my mind
There was something so pleasant about that phase.
Even your emotions had an echo
In so much space
And when you're out there
Without care,Yeah, I was out of touch
But it wasn't because I didn't know enough
I just knew too much
Does that make me crazy
Does that make me crazy
Does that make me crazy
Probably
And I hope that you are having the time of your life
But think twice, that's my only advice
Come on now, who do you, who do you, who do you, who do you think you are,
Ha ha ha bless your soul
You really think you're in control
Well, I think you're crazy
I think you're crazy
I think you're crazy
Just like me
My heroes had the heart to lose their lives out on a limb
And all I remember is thinking,
I want to be like them
Ever since I was little,
ever since I was little it looked like fun
And it's no coincidence I've come
And I can die when I'm done
Maybe I'm crazy
Maybe you're crazy
Maybe we're crazy
Probably

wherever I fall, put me in the earth...

2006-07-28T13:29:00.000-07:00

He fell three years ago, in his small village of Cameroon. He loved that land. He knew special prayers had to be made before cutting a tree. If you go to Paradise you'll recognize him easily: he's the one who only drinks water. He was my uncle and I love him.

Singer sewing-machine

2006-07-21T03:31:00.000-07:00

My uncle took this photo in his african village, years ago.
I should give it to Sisabeille.

world on fire again

2006-07-20T03:08:00.000-07:00

I wish I could give good news from Lebanon, India, Israël...
Listen to children:
"Let the sun shine in the night time and please no more dying.
Please let us have peace and no more fighting.
People are dying."
Southwest ElementarySan Antonio, TX, US
"Chaque nation envoie des casques bleus
Pour que le monde soit plus heureux."
Ecole FondamentaleFleurus, Belgique
"Why destroy when we could create,
Keep the peace, erase the hate."
Normal Community West High SchoolNormal, IL, US
"Cultivemos una semillita de esta soñada utopía; si le ponemos sabora vainilla y esencia de sol, dejará de ser un sueño para ser una flor."
Centro Educativo Integral, secondary schoolQuito, Ecuador

hello from Devon...

2006-07-20T02:56:00.000-07:00

A nice place to live when you've a sweet tooth.
The parchment-coloured cream has a deep, rich flavour. Its crust is as yellow as a primrose.
It tastes so good with strawberry jam, scones and tea...
I really do love English riviera...

the first call...

2006-06-19T10:14:00.000-07:00

J'étais tout fier d'avoir quatre ans et de découvrir la Scandinavie...alors un beau jour j'ai couru vers elles...le grand jars et Nils, mon frère de livre, m'attendaient...depuis je ne me suis pas arrêté...si parfois, je me pose, ma tête continue de voyager...le temps a passé...je suis devenu Cortobeille...accompagné de mon ami Mister Bird je bouge, je vis, je regarde, je partage...aujourd'hui je vous invite à faire un tour...où ? mystère...

The African elephant said: "

"When you'll be a big boy

we'll take you to India to visit some friends...

end of previous message ...

2006-06-17T14:26:00.000-07:00

We were cut...No mail today...
Let's go back to that famous bottle, the Château d'Yquem is a sauterne (golden-coloured table or dessert wine) from the Bordeaux region in france. It is classified as a Premier Grand Cru and was favoured by Thomas Jefferson, who introduced it to George Washington...Such a price for an old bottle...Those French people are a bit crazy...
Before I go, let me show you a view of Bordeaux, a beautiful town.

French food trivia...The Times online...

2006-06-17T12:37:00.000-07:00

News from France...

-The most expensive commercially available wine is the Chateau d'Yquem (1787) which costs from 29, 000£ to 32,000£ per bottle, depending on the retailer.

Delicious souvenirs...

2006-06-17T12:07:00.000-07:00

You remember crispy fried fish, soft fried potatoes, a wee bit of vinegar...

You' re going to the cinema to watch the last Ken Loach...or Spielberg...

You stop for a fresh Guiness in a cosy pub...

You listen to good music, somebody's playing the piano...

You breathe the English atmosphere.

You enjoy every minute of it...

You discover Scotland, Aberdeen, Inverness...

You watch the moor, the sea, the loch Ness...

You miss Nessie..!...

You meet friendly people, listen to bagpipes...

You discover the best whisky you ever tasted...

You drink it just with whisky... ............................................Let's sing "Amazing grace"...

I also work to be abble to enjoy all this !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hello from the world...

2006-06-17T07:57:00.000-07:00

Souvenir from my trip to Cuba January 2006. gorgeous country, gorgeous people...
I brought back the recipe of Ernest Hemingway's Daïquiri:
Two ounces of white or ligth rum, the juice from two limes, the juice from half a grapefruit, Maraschino liqueur foating on the top. serve over crushed ice.
Hemingway was said to drink 6 a day when he was thirsty and more than 12 when he wanted to get drunk...
Cheers everybody . See you, and don't forget the famous saying: "If you don't leave you're sure never to arrive."
C'est un de mes cocktails préférés... Il vous faut: 6 cl de rhum cubain (havana club, bacardi, etc) 4 cl de jus de citrons verts 15 cl de cola (coca cola, pepsi) Préparez le Cocktail Cuba libre directement dans le verre. Verser citron et rhum sur des glaçons. Compléter avec le coca cola. Remuer lentement. Servir dans un verre de type "old fashioned" Décorer avec une tranche de citron vert . ................................................
Lorsque nous sommes allés à Cuba, en Janvier 2006, Mister Bird et moi avons eu des discussions parfois orageuses... "all included"... rhum à volonté... misère aussi... rire à volonté... larmes aussi... prison à volonté ... rêve aussi... et je me souviens de discussions passionnantes la nuit sur la plage, de rêve de liberté... et les copains espagnols qui chantaient il y a des années: "Fidel, Fidel, que tienes Fidel que los Americanos no puede saber..." A l'époque Franco régnait et Fidel Castro incarnait l'espoir... Mister Bird a vécu ce temps...pas moi... Le jour de la fête de la révolution comme sur la carte postale au-dessus, j'ai chanté avec les autres...ce n'est pas simple... Comment savoir où est la vérité...je sais les prisons sont pleines...je sais...