Today is St. Valentine day. In Austria it is “The day of the beloved” and in Mexico “The day of love and friendship”. In Austria people are now buying only one flower bouquet, however in Mexico, people are buying chocolates for the office colleagues, carnations for their close friends and perfume for the partner.
When I was in high school, we bought carnations for our friends on this day. It was nice to get many and in different colours. The white ones meant friendship; if you got a pink carnation it meant someone liked you, but if you got a red one, oh man, there was someone crazy about you!
Last week, I was on my way out to the supermarket when I saw a man lying in front of the building’s door (in my building there are nine apartments). I helped him to stand and only then I realised it was my neighbour, the retired University professor from upstairs. While I accompanied him to his flat, he told me he had a blood pressure problem and felt. He also added that the day before he turned 80 years old and he was proud to tell me that he was born in the apartment he lives. 80 years in the same flat!
After ensuring that he was well, I went on, but just before leaving I noticed a slight smell of alcohol in his breath, I also saw six bottles of beer in his grocery bag.
Sometimes, when I am a little depressed, I am afraid of living on my own for the rest of my life. This pessimistic visualization of my future vanishes away as soon as I think of all the good friends I have.
Earlier today I talked on the phone with Magdalena and Isabella; after work, I went with Hannes for dinner (I just joined him since I ate earlier); when I got home, I had a fantastic phone conversation with Maria; Verena just called me minutes ago, and the first thing I will do when I finishing writing this, it will be to call my brother and then my sister and mom.
Today, the day of love and friendship, reminded me how much I love my friends, and if I in 50 years I fell in front of the house, I will surely call a good friend and tell him or her “Shit man, I am getting old and I am dying slowly!”, I will say it in a sarcastic way so that we laugh together and then we will meet for a glass of prosecco.
lunes, 14 de febrero de 2011
martes, 8 de febrero de 2011
When two independent things, leading to the same object, occur at the same time we have to pay extreme attention!
I always have admired those journalists who write about a subject and find parallels between that subject and something apparently having nothing to do with it. Sometimes it is an artist or an historic event. Commonly, in those articles, everything seems so irrelevant, but if you keep reading, the article perfectly mixes subjects which turn into a perfectly logic article.
When I finish reading articles, I wish I could be as wise and as clever as those guys.
Right now, I am about to write a similar article…and I am neither wise nor clever, and I did not studied journalism, and did no research at all. I will just write what happened today.
It all started when I read an article in a Mexican online newspaper about Thomas Bernhard. It said he would be turning 80 years old tomorrow if he would be alive. Thomas Bernhard is one of Austria’s most important novelists of the last century. The article also mentioned that the director of the Thomas Bernhard Institute is called Martin Huber.
Immediately I sent Hannes an E-Mail with the newspaper link because Hannes parents live in the same neighbourhood were the writer lived…and he told me yesterday he finished reading a book by Bernhard.
After some minutes, I wrote Hannes once more to tell him a nice coincidence: A common friend of us is called Martin Huber, and Martin told me last summer it would be cool to move to Ohlsdorf, Hannes’ hometown, because he is a fan of Bernhard’s literature and wanted to live near the writer’s house. What Martin surely doesn’t know is that he shares the same name and last name with the Thomas Bernhard Institute’s director.
Half an hour later, I sent Hannes another e-mail with more coincidences: Thomas Bernhard was born on February 9th, just as my cousin Karla. Karla currently lives in Madrid and Thomas Bernhard also lived there…and Karla was two years ago in Ohlsdorf.
An hour after that, I forgot about the coincidences issue and checked the e-mail account of Los Gurkos, our cultural association. There, I saw an e-mail for Hannes, it was sent by one of Austria’s most known DJs: B.Fleischmann. Fleischmann wrote that e-mail to Hannes and sent a copy to the director of Morr Music, an important indie and electronic record label based in Berlin’s. An hour after B. Fleischmann’s e-mail, Thomas Morr, the owner of Morr music replied to Hannes.
It took me a while to put all the pieces together…then, as fast as I could, wrote Hannes an e-mail saying the following:
"Hannes,
We have been communicating the entire day via e-mail regarding coincidences around Thomas Bernhard, and now the cycle has been closed.
Today, you received two e-mails on the los gurkos account, one from B. Fleischmann, whose real name is Bernhard Fleischmann and the second E-Mail was by Thomas Morr, if you put both first names together you get Thomas Bernhard"
On the last episode I saw from Twin Peaks, Agent Cooper said something like “When two independent things, leading to the same object, occur at the same time we have to pay extreme attention”.
Today’s coincidences were bay far more than two, that is why I am rigorously following Agent Cooper’s advice.
When I finish reading articles, I wish I could be as wise and as clever as those guys.
Right now, I am about to write a similar article…and I am neither wise nor clever, and I did not studied journalism, and did no research at all. I will just write what happened today.
It all started when I read an article in a Mexican online newspaper about Thomas Bernhard. It said he would be turning 80 years old tomorrow if he would be alive. Thomas Bernhard is one of Austria’s most important novelists of the last century. The article also mentioned that the director of the Thomas Bernhard Institute is called Martin Huber.
Immediately I sent Hannes an E-Mail with the newspaper link because Hannes parents live in the same neighbourhood were the writer lived…and he told me yesterday he finished reading a book by Bernhard.
After some minutes, I wrote Hannes once more to tell him a nice coincidence: A common friend of us is called Martin Huber, and Martin told me last summer it would be cool to move to Ohlsdorf, Hannes’ hometown, because he is a fan of Bernhard’s literature and wanted to live near the writer’s house. What Martin surely doesn’t know is that he shares the same name and last name with the Thomas Bernhard Institute’s director.
Half an hour later, I sent Hannes another e-mail with more coincidences: Thomas Bernhard was born on February 9th, just as my cousin Karla. Karla currently lives in Madrid and Thomas Bernhard also lived there…and Karla was two years ago in Ohlsdorf.
An hour after that, I forgot about the coincidences issue and checked the e-mail account of Los Gurkos, our cultural association. There, I saw an e-mail for Hannes, it was sent by one of Austria’s most known DJs: B.Fleischmann. Fleischmann wrote that e-mail to Hannes and sent a copy to the director of Morr Music, an important indie and electronic record label based in Berlin’s. An hour after B. Fleischmann’s e-mail, Thomas Morr, the owner of Morr music replied to Hannes.
It took me a while to put all the pieces together…then, as fast as I could, wrote Hannes an e-mail saying the following:
"Hannes,
We have been communicating the entire day via e-mail regarding coincidences around Thomas Bernhard, and now the cycle has been closed.
Today, you received two e-mails on the los gurkos account, one from B. Fleischmann, whose real name is Bernhard Fleischmann and the second E-Mail was by Thomas Morr, if you put both first names together you get Thomas Bernhard"
On the last episode I saw from Twin Peaks, Agent Cooper said something like “When two independent things, leading to the same object, occur at the same time we have to pay extreme attention”.
Today’s coincidences were bay far more than two, that is why I am rigorously following Agent Cooper’s advice.
lunes, 7 de febrero de 2011
Lord of the Ceviche part III: The Return of the King
I think many families have a special city, town or region where they spend holidays. Between 1990 and 1996, I travelled with my family to a town called Puerto Peñasco each Easter. I have very nice memories of Puerto Peñasco: my sister and I inviting different friends each year, my brother vomiting because he ate 8 brownies when he was six years old, me kissing a girl for the first time, going fishing with my grand father and collecting clams at the beach. However, there is one thing I learned there which changed my life: A cook trusted me his secret recipe to prepare the king of ceviche.
That secret lies in the fish and the way to cut the flesh. The fish has to be sierra (in English Pacific Sierra or Sierra Mackerel) and the flesh has to be “separated” from the fish’s skin by “scrubbing” it using a spoon.
This knowledge was entrusted to me almost 17 years ago by that Master, and I made good use of this information. I prepared a sierra ceviche the next day after receiving the secret recipe, but it was not until last December when I decided to use all my powers, I wanted to show the world the immense supremacy of the king of ceviche, I gathered forces from the very deep of my soul and prepared mentally to combine the experiences I had collected during my extensive mission and mixed it with the old Masters’ secret. My family and I were witnesses of what happened…
Our journey started when we departed to the Palmilla beach; there I encountered an assembly of wise old men, who made a living by extracting living fish from the deep waters of the Sea of Cortéz. To achieve that, they used wooden boats, as old as history itself. The wise men brought the fish to the land and sacrificed them at the windy sea shore. The men separated the gutter from the flesh and fed it to the schools of birds…albatrosses…sea gulls and pelicans, all hungry for fresh bloody guts.
An old wise man provided me and my cousin Laura a piece of fresh sacrificed fish to taste it…it was raw, it was mouth-watering, and yes…it was Sierra.
Laura and I, without hesitating, acquired the necessary amount of fish to feed my starving tribe. Back in our shelter we scrubbed the flesh out of the Sierra filets, marinated it with lime juices so it obtained their scent, combined it with sacred red onions, fresh coriander and tomato and we added a new component to the original recipe: avocado cubes.
After curing the ceviche for half an hour, we were ready for ingesting its powers and there it was, the king was once more with us, we all were there…we all tasted it...the return of the king.
That secret lies in the fish and the way to cut the flesh. The fish has to be sierra (in English Pacific Sierra or Sierra Mackerel) and the flesh has to be “separated” from the fish’s skin by “scrubbing” it using a spoon.
This knowledge was entrusted to me almost 17 years ago by that Master, and I made good use of this information. I prepared a sierra ceviche the next day after receiving the secret recipe, but it was not until last December when I decided to use all my powers, I wanted to show the world the immense supremacy of the king of ceviche, I gathered forces from the very deep of my soul and prepared mentally to combine the experiences I had collected during my extensive mission and mixed it with the old Masters’ secret. My family and I were witnesses of what happened…
Our journey started when we departed to the Palmilla beach; there I encountered an assembly of wise old men, who made a living by extracting living fish from the deep waters of the Sea of Cortéz. To achieve that, they used wooden boats, as old as history itself. The wise men brought the fish to the land and sacrificed them at the windy sea shore. The men separated the gutter from the flesh and fed it to the schools of birds…albatrosses…sea gulls and pelicans, all hungry for fresh bloody guts.
An old wise man provided me and my cousin Laura a piece of fresh sacrificed fish to taste it…it was raw, it was mouth-watering, and yes…it was Sierra.
Laura and I, without hesitating, acquired the necessary amount of fish to feed my starving tribe. Back in our shelter we scrubbed the flesh out of the Sierra filets, marinated it with lime juices so it obtained their scent, combined it with sacred red onions, fresh coriander and tomato and we added a new component to the original recipe: avocado cubes.
After curing the ceviche for half an hour, we were ready for ingesting its powers and there it was, the king was once more with us, we all were there…we all tasted it...the return of the king.
domingo, 30 de enero de 2011
The lord of the ceviche: The two cities
San José del Cabo is the city where my brother lives. It is located in the southern part of Baja California and if you drive 30 Kilometres heading west through the coast highway, you'll reach San José's twin city: San Lucas.
In San Lucas, I tried two ceviches at eateries for locals; tourists prefer to have giant steaks with giant shrimps or giant hamburgers at hooters or Johnny Rockets. I assume that good food in San Lucas is reserved for Mexicans ;-)
One of the ceviches I got there was interesting and the second was very good.
I bought the first one from a guy who selling fish and shrimp ceviche from the trunk of his mini-van at the marina. He prepared it with fish, coriander, red onions, lime and something that surprised me: shredded carrots! The flavour was very balanced since the carrots added a sweet taste to it. The ceviche was served over a tostada, which is nothing but a tortilla chip the size of a cd.
“Las tres islas” was the place I had the very good ceviche, their ceviche was perfect: White fish perfectly marinated in lime juice with the ideal amount of red onions, coriander and tomatoes and it was served along with tortilla chips.
In the city of San José I also had very good ceviche, it was actually nearly amazing. My brother drove us (my mom and me) to the “container”, a shipping block adapted as a restaurant. It is located at the new San José Marina. They prepared an incredible good ceviche: Big chunks of fresh tuna*, loads of red onions, coriander and the perfect amount of lime juice…and the right amoutn of their secret ingredient: Mango. To add even more points, they serve the ceviche with fresh home-made tortilla chips.
Not far away from the posh container, there is a couple selling excellent ceviche, oysters and clams on the street. They use an old cable barrel as both, kitchen and table for the guests. The atmosphere there is magic: Locals, gringos, dusty streets, dogs and chickens blend perfectly with their excellent ceviche using the traditional ingredients.
Want to see how some of the eateries look like? Click here
* In Baja California there is no industrial fishing; fish comes from sustainable lane fishing.
In San Lucas, I tried two ceviches at eateries for locals; tourists prefer to have giant steaks with giant shrimps or giant hamburgers at hooters or Johnny Rockets. I assume that good food in San Lucas is reserved for Mexicans ;-)
One of the ceviches I got there was interesting and the second was very good.
I bought the first one from a guy who selling fish and shrimp ceviche from the trunk of his mini-van at the marina. He prepared it with fish, coriander, red onions, lime and something that surprised me: shredded carrots! The flavour was very balanced since the carrots added a sweet taste to it. The ceviche was served over a tostada, which is nothing but a tortilla chip the size of a cd.
“Las tres islas” was the place I had the very good ceviche, their ceviche was perfect: White fish perfectly marinated in lime juice with the ideal amount of red onions, coriander and tomatoes and it was served along with tortilla chips.
In the city of San José I also had very good ceviche, it was actually nearly amazing. My brother drove us (my mom and me) to the “container”, a shipping block adapted as a restaurant. It is located at the new San José Marina. They prepared an incredible good ceviche: Big chunks of fresh tuna*, loads of red onions, coriander and the perfect amount of lime juice…and the right amoutn of their secret ingredient: Mango. To add even more points, they serve the ceviche with fresh home-made tortilla chips.
Not far away from the posh container, there is a couple selling excellent ceviche, oysters and clams on the street. They use an old cable barrel as both, kitchen and table for the guests. The atmosphere there is magic: Locals, gringos, dusty streets, dogs and chickens blend perfectly with their excellent ceviche using the traditional ingredients.
Want to see how some of the eateries look like? Click here
* In Baja California there is no industrial fishing; fish comes from sustainable lane fishing.
miércoles, 26 de enero de 2011
I'll just call ourselves "The fellowhip of the ceviche"
In winter 2006, my family and I decided to spend our December holidays at the Mayan Riviera. As we flew from Chihuahua to Cancún, we knew this was not a simple family trip, it was the beginning of long quest: The search for the greatest ceviche ever; a quest that until now, four years later, hasn't been concluded.
Looking for the tastier ceviche in the galaxy is not an easy task. Back in that summer, we found our favourite among ten different eateries. On the Riviera highway, in the city of Tulum, not far from the point were you turn left (if coming from Playa del Cármen) to reach the archaeological site, there it is, a street restaurant serving one of the best ceviches we have tried.
I still remember how it all happened: We all ordered ceviche, but my sister was the first one to try it. As soon as the magic blend touched her tongue, she took a look at us and with her eyes wide open said "No…está bien bueno!“. That ceviche is since then our standard: We give ceviche grades based on that one.
My family and me...well, I'll just call ourselves "The fellowhip of the ceviche" continued our journey last month. In December we started exploring new territories. My brother, who has been living in Los Cabos for over a year now, located new terrains. Before I narrate the impressions from the best ones last month, I have to dedicate the next paragraphs to ceviche. Some readers may have joined this blog recently and are not aware of what ceviche is.
I often describe ceviche as the Latin blend of sashimi and gazpacho. Ceviche has the Japanese minimalism if you count the number of ingredients (all raw), it is perfectly combined with some of the fresh ingredients of gazpacho and is pimped with the two best ingredients of Latin kitchen: Lime and coriander/cilantro.
Ceviche has six ingredients: Fish, lime, tomato, red onions, cucumber, coriander and salt. Some people add fresh jalapeños and/or avocado. In Peru, the birthplace of ceviche, ceviche is prepared sometimes with corn and served with slices of grilled sweet potato.
Many cooks try to make ceviche tastier by augmenting the number of ingredients. There is ceviche prepared with tomato juice, black pepper, ketchup, chillies, and a mix of Worcester, Soy and Maggi sauces…
For us, the fellowship of the ceviche, the dish has to be fresh, simple and it must have red onions. That’s it.
I will write about the ceviche experience in Los Cabos in my next entry...
P.S. The picture is a ceviche I had at the marina of San José
Looking for the tastier ceviche in the galaxy is not an easy task. Back in that summer, we found our favourite among ten different eateries. On the Riviera highway, in the city of Tulum, not far from the point were you turn left (if coming from Playa del Cármen) to reach the archaeological site, there it is, a street restaurant serving one of the best ceviches we have tried.
I still remember how it all happened: We all ordered ceviche, but my sister was the first one to try it. As soon as the magic blend touched her tongue, she took a look at us and with her eyes wide open said "No…está bien bueno!“. That ceviche is since then our standard: We give ceviche grades based on that one.
My family and me...well, I'll just call ourselves "The fellowhip of the ceviche" continued our journey last month. In December we started exploring new territories. My brother, who has been living in Los Cabos for over a year now, located new terrains. Before I narrate the impressions from the best ones last month, I have to dedicate the next paragraphs to ceviche. Some readers may have joined this blog recently and are not aware of what ceviche is.
I often describe ceviche as the Latin blend of sashimi and gazpacho. Ceviche has the Japanese minimalism if you count the number of ingredients (all raw), it is perfectly combined with some of the fresh ingredients of gazpacho and is pimped with the two best ingredients of Latin kitchen: Lime and coriander/cilantro.
Ceviche has six ingredients: Fish, lime, tomato, red onions, cucumber, coriander and salt. Some people add fresh jalapeños and/or avocado. In Peru, the birthplace of ceviche, ceviche is prepared sometimes with corn and served with slices of grilled sweet potato.
Many cooks try to make ceviche tastier by augmenting the number of ingredients. There is ceviche prepared with tomato juice, black pepper, ketchup, chillies, and a mix of Worcester, Soy and Maggi sauces…
For us, the fellowship of the ceviche, the dish has to be fresh, simple and it must have red onions. That’s it.
I will write about the ceviche experience in Los Cabos in my next entry...
P.S. The picture is a ceviche I had at the marina of San José
jueves, 20 de enero de 2011
fat, old and lonely...niiice!
The British newspaper „the guardian” recently published an article on a trend in cosmetic surgeries: Women want to look like 36. “Sweet” I thought! The consumer society has selected “36” as the landmark of aesthetic-human splendour, the non plus ultra of hotness.
The first thing that came to my mind was that in only four years people will envy me, and if not, they will find me pretty damn sexy.
As I continue reading, I couldn’t believe the article: Looking like 36 was not the goal of ladies in their late 40’s, they are women in their early 20’s the ones trying to look like cougars!
Anne, my flatmate has a refined sense of humour which she perfectly complements with her German way of telling things (She is quite direct). Well, some minutes ago, Anne saw me in the kitchen, and apparently I was looking worried (but I wasn’t) and as I told her I was going to write for my blog, she asked me if I was writing about how sad my life was.
She finished our short conversation by adding that I was “fat, old and lonely”. Although this comment may sound as a reason for either stop talking to her or suddenly committing suicide, I thought it was great and laughed out loud :-D
I liked Anne’s comment so much I told her it was the perfect title for the blog, then I grabbed a bottle of red wine and came into my room to write this.
It is nothing new that I whine for being fat, old or lonely, but that’s not the case this week. Not since I read that Lindsey Lohan and Heidi Montag are 23 and 24 respectively and just got themselves fixed with botox to look older than me.
Thank you Lindsey!
P.S. The article “The year-zero face: is 36 the perfect age for a woman?” was written by Eva Wiseman in case you would like to google it.
The first thing that came to my mind was that in only four years people will envy me, and if not, they will find me pretty damn sexy.
As I continue reading, I couldn’t believe the article: Looking like 36 was not the goal of ladies in their late 40’s, they are women in their early 20’s the ones trying to look like cougars!
Anne, my flatmate has a refined sense of humour which she perfectly complements with her German way of telling things (She is quite direct). Well, some minutes ago, Anne saw me in the kitchen, and apparently I was looking worried (but I wasn’t) and as I told her I was going to write for my blog, she asked me if I was writing about how sad my life was.
She finished our short conversation by adding that I was “fat, old and lonely”. Although this comment may sound as a reason for either stop talking to her or suddenly committing suicide, I thought it was great and laughed out loud :-D
I liked Anne’s comment so much I told her it was the perfect title for the blog, then I grabbed a bottle of red wine and came into my room to write this.
It is nothing new that I whine for being fat, old or lonely, but that’s not the case this week. Not since I read that Lindsey Lohan and Heidi Montag are 23 and 24 respectively and just got themselves fixed with botox to look older than me.
Thank you Lindsey!
P.S. The article “The year-zero face: is 36 the perfect age for a woman?” was written by Eva Wiseman in case you would like to google it.
jueves, 13 de enero de 2011
that warm family noise
In 1996, a set of circumstances enabled me to go to Europe for two semesters to learn German, I was 17 back then.
I came to Innsbruck, studied German and then enrolled at the University to study political sciences. By the time I finished my studies, I was member of an incredible and lovely circle of friends. I bonded so well with them that taking the decision to stay in Innsbruck and look for a job was not hard at all.
I know many Mexicans who cannot live without consuming Mexican products: Chillies, sauces, snacks and sweets. During my first years in Austria I also showed symptoms of that gastronomic nostalgia. My mom used to send me candies, salsas and chips by either parcel, or with someone who happened to travel to Innsbruck. At present, I can survive extreme long periods of time without consuming Mexican food, but there is something I cannot turn my back to: my family.
The only reason I still travel home is to meet my mom, my brother and sister, and my vacations turn even better if I meet my grandmother, my grandfather, my father, my aunts, my uncle, my cousins and their children. There are also a number of good old friends with whom I enjoy chatting, but sadly, most of them no longer live in Chihuahua.
I came back from Los Cabos only three days ago. While there, I spent most of the time with my relatives, who came for the wedding of my cousin William and to spend christmas and news year's eve there. We were around 30 Castro-clan members. Those weeks were everything but calm: children playing, running and yelling; the adults were eithwer watching TV, cooking, discussing or eating. It was noise and chaos at its highest peak, all the time and everywhere we went to.
Right know, I am happy to be back in Austria, I love my apartment, my friends and the cultural offer here; however, I am missing something: that warm family noise...
I came to Innsbruck, studied German and then enrolled at the University to study political sciences. By the time I finished my studies, I was member of an incredible and lovely circle of friends. I bonded so well with them that taking the decision to stay in Innsbruck and look for a job was not hard at all.
I know many Mexicans who cannot live without consuming Mexican products: Chillies, sauces, snacks and sweets. During my first years in Austria I also showed symptoms of that gastronomic nostalgia. My mom used to send me candies, salsas and chips by either parcel, or with someone who happened to travel to Innsbruck. At present, I can survive extreme long periods of time without consuming Mexican food, but there is something I cannot turn my back to: my family.
The only reason I still travel home is to meet my mom, my brother and sister, and my vacations turn even better if I meet my grandmother, my grandfather, my father, my aunts, my uncle, my cousins and their children. There are also a number of good old friends with whom I enjoy chatting, but sadly, most of them no longer live in Chihuahua.
I came back from Los Cabos only three days ago. While there, I spent most of the time with my relatives, who came for the wedding of my cousin William and to spend christmas and news year's eve there. We were around 30 Castro-clan members. Those weeks were everything but calm: children playing, running and yelling; the adults were eithwer watching TV, cooking, discussing or eating. It was noise and chaos at its highest peak, all the time and everywhere we went to.
Right know, I am happy to be back in Austria, I love my apartment, my friends and the cultural offer here; however, I am missing something: that warm family noise...
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