French is the language of fine dining

So she loves to cook. As a new page of the cook book is turned over, your mouth is left watering, it says : Recette du jour : chanterelle et magret de canard. She also loves to invent and so the tender duck breast will have two sorts of mushrooms and mashed potatoes to accompany it on it's journey to the stomach.

Here's how it's done. You take some potatoes, you boil them in their nice shirt. After a while, you'll know when the time has come, your fork sinks easily in the potatoes, you take them out of the water and start peeling, being careful not to burn your delicate fingers. You mash the potatoes with a little bit of butter, milk and cream and add some salt, pepper and some nutmeg mace (or noix de muscade or nucsoara), for taste.

While the potatoes are boiling you can already start on the mushroom sauce. Or rather sauces because as I told you the girl likes to invent and so does her boy who prepared the sauces. First things first, chop some onions and cook them until they are almost translucent and then add the ingredients of the first sauce : the pleurotus mushroom. Prepare a sauce out of some cream and some moutarde a l'ancienne, which is mustard with grains and pour it over the mushrooms and onions. Then prepare the second sauce by putting chanterelles on the hot pan, adding cream and stirring. Pepper and salt for the taste. These mushrooms are from the agaricus family so quite common, even in Romania.

Now for the "magret de canard". This is a duck's file, cut from a fat duck's chest, more info here (don't you just love Wikipedia?) Just take the tender pieces of meat, put them on a hot frying pan, turn them on the other side when the first one is slightly cooked, you don't want to overcook these babies. And that's it! Add a nice red wine, full of tannins, arrange it all on a nice plate, light some candles and you have yourself a romantic dinner. Bon appetit!

PS. More of my culinary journeys will follow soon.

Tuesday, the 13th

Tuesday, the 13th is considered by Romanian superstitions to be a day of bad luck. But not today, because today is my Dad's b-day ! Happy Birthday Dad! He's spending it making BBQ, one of his favorite activities and I envy the people present.

Last month was my Mum's birthday, it made me realize that I'm not there for them, I'm not there for big events like her 50 year anniversary or Easter, or my cousin's wedding, or the dog's latest stunt.


I took the decision to live away from them and I stick to it: there are a lot of advantages to living in a foreign country and having a good salary. But there is also nostalgia. And so my parents get nice presents delivered by courier because I want to be there, in any way possible.

I like to make my presence felt on these occasions, even if I am aware that it's only a reminder of my absence. I planed special surprises for my Mum: she received a huge flower arrangement, which I made delivered to her work place. And just when she thought that was it, she also got a perfume, delivered by another courier later that same day. I think, I hope, it was a happy birthday. And now my Dad got a set of 6 games and a BBQ kit and my Mum and our friends helped me plot the whole thing. Because I'm involved, even from a distance, thank you internet.

So Happy Birthday Dad, see you in a couple of weeks, I'll drink a Pilsner for you!

The Remarkable Rocket

My eyes were on the sky, my breath was almost still, I was standing there, transfixed. The cracking sounds that made their way to me felt like thousands of champagne bottles popping and letting the bubbly fluid out. And the skies were burning, the air was green. Yes, fireworks!

The people of Plzen seem really set on chasing daemons away, almost every week there is a firework some where in town. This time there was a really big one to celebrate the liberation of the city by American troupes on May 6th 1945, the only city in the Eastern blocks to have seen the freedom bringing American tanks.

The festivities usually last for a week : you see tanks, army trucks, veterans, fighter jets scene reenactments, and at the end, fireworks, maybe a reminder of the guns and cannons heard during the war, but this time, friendly fire only.

I was really sorry I couldn't take pictures, we were out for pizzas only so I had no camera. As pretty as a picture is and even thought it holds a thousand words, my glee is not encompassed in it. I am a kid looking at the fireworks. I love the sound and even the smell they sometimes leave behind. Lucky me, I live in a town with a huge firework budget. If they also had Auroras, I'd be in heaven (maybe literally; the Eskimos thought that Auroras where the time when the dead came back to communicate with the living).

While watching the fireworks I had in mind the discussions between the fireworks in the story by Oscar Wilde I read when I was a kid. But these fireworks were not as vain as the one in the story and ignited to make a whole town happy to be alive and for an instant maybe, feeling like they are living good times.

PS. This year I plan to go here.

A Blast from the Past

Do you remember how much joy your old toys brought you? Wouldn't you want to feel that again? Today I went back in time to 1986, the year my Dad made his famous first trip to Czechoslovakia and came back with lots of goodies that were hard to find in Socialist Romania.

Among them, the famous Red Buffalo, the Yellow Honey Eater - a huge teddy bear in red overalls, my first gold earrings, my Mum's favorite bra and lots more. I was two but that moment is still stuck in my memory : the complete, honest joy of the whole family at the sight of those objects that were so common for Westerners yet so sparse for us.

The teddy bear was taller than I was at the time but even if I outgrew it in size, I still continued to sleep with it cuddled in my arms until much later. I'm afraid the Buffalo had a sadder fate, one that is linked to my first memories : the big boom of the rubber toy bursting under me. It resonated loudly with my childish joy of trying to tame the red buffalo.

Today I read this article about a toy exhibition and realized the treasure I didn't know I had as a child. Kids don't really care about the value of things; they just play in the sand, careless of the mess they make, careless of the toys they break but utterly, truly, carefree and happy. For a moment I felt the same way again, looking at this image :

Maybe the toys haven't survived past my childhood but I still feel the texture of the materials they were made of and the happiness they brought me is something I yearn for.

So, dear reader, what were your favorite childhood toys?

I Hugged a Tree

One morning in March, last week to be precise, the weather was not quite perfect: sunny on the outside but frosty and snowy allover. And that is when it happened, on my way to work: crash boom bang and I hit a tree by the side of the highway.

I've been told it's a miracle to even be here and tell you this awful story. I was lucky: I had a new car that protected me with air bag and other security systems and I was wearing my seat belt. I have scraps and nasty bruises and injured knees and you can see marks of where the airbag hit my face and where the seat belt kept me from being thrown off the window. But I am alive and kicking.

I'm sorry I gave my Mum such an awful Mother's Day. I am thankful for everything she's done for the and for wanting to get on the first flight here. I hope she will stop smoking, as she promised. My guy was worried sick. Now we make fun of my amnesia but at the time, I don't think it was funny for him, having to tell me every 5 minutes what had happened.

I've had calls from a lot of people, friends, colleagues, former colleagues. My friends helped inform my parents. I'm overwhelmed by this outburst of love from people far away, when I was the one supposed to call people on that day. So I say thank you for your care and I'm sorry I caused all this trouble around myself.

Martisor

I wish you all a warm and sunny spring. I know in France it's still Winter (and considering the latest storm, a very bleak one), Romanians are celebrating the start of Spring, the warming of the air and already looking forward to barbecues (my Dad has already grilled the first steaks outdoors).

Eastern European girls are all wearing a red and white bracelet around their wrists. And so are some of the boys. Usually it's boys who offer the little charm, but sometimes, the girl puts it around her boy's wrist (that's what I did) as a symbol of the end of Winter, the triumph of good over bad (and other lame things).

This image is one that all Romanians will recognize: you see it everywhere around this time, these two little lovebirds have become Spring itself.

The black and red strings are most often accompanied by a flower that boys and men offer their mothers, sisters, daughters, lovers... This is my favorite is a freesia that I would like to offer, symbolically, to whomever reads these pages.

Have a nice spring! Krasne Jaro! O primavara frumoasa

Brno - A City That Rock and Rolls

I'm still recuperating after last weekend, so please bear with me while I tell you this story. This was supposed to be a story about my wonderful, fairy-tale like evening at a ball in Hradec Kralove. At least that is what all my friends are waiting for. Instead, you'll read about my (long) weekend of boozing, dancing and general debauchery in Brno.

First things first, I did go to the prom (or gala for the French or bal for the Romanians). And it was Awesome. I had a nice low cut fringe dress, perfect for pirouettes, high heels and the best dance partner one could wish for. I felt like a princess and the other girls that were with us, were among the prettiest at the ball. So my boy was spoiled.

The next day, after some troubles with a lost/stolen wallet, we took to the road and went to the Moravian capital, Czech Republic's second city and major university center : Brno.

If you plan a trip to the Czech Republic, visit Prague, of course, but go to Brno as well. The people are different there, more cool, relaxed, not in such a hurry as in Prague. Yet you will find all nationalities in Brno, in part thanks to it's Erasmus students but also to the throng of IT companies in the area.

We had beers with friends and former teachers, in a medieval cellar, the kind that Czechs like so much. We also visited the towns many pedestrian streets and had hot chocolate in a cozy cafe, chatting away. By evening we were so tired we had to crash at a friend's place before picking up a friend (The Ben) at the bus station.

The places to see in Brno : The cathedral, the Spilberk castle (actually the town is built around these two hills), The Old Town Hall, Charlie's Hat and Livingstone. Interesting are also the Villa Tugendhat, unfortunetly closed for renovation, the Masaryk University and the Brno University of Technology, the VUT. For the girls, you go to Masaryk, for the boys to VUT. In June Brno is the home of the Ignis Brunensis festival of fireworks and also in summer there is a MotoGP event not far from the city.

Brno is full of legends. Like the one about the dragon and the wheel. Or why the Town Hall has a crooked column. And also legendary places such as the pubs and clubs of Brno. We spent our evenings in two of these. First off was Charlie's. Bad toilets and smoke, but still a nice place to have drinks and talk.

There I found out a little bit more about the town and about the Romanians living in Brno, from a friend living and working there. All around you could hear every language possible and it made me happy to have a pleasant conversation Romanian. I have to say we didn't drink that much, but the 50 crown coupon was well spent on a vodka and pineapple. The following evening we went back to Charlie's but this time with gadz'arts. We ate the awful pizza they sell in front of the bar for 25czk (it's a tradition reminding me of Clatita Uriasa in Regie or that Shaorma place near the metro station).

Charlie's is a chick magnet. If you choose the right place in the bar you'll spot very fast what ever you want to pick up: boy or girl. After you woe him or her over a pint of beer or a cocktail, you can impress with your moves on the dance floor. It's almost guaranteed you won't spend the night alone.

My night continued in an exotic place the atmosphere of which reminded me of P24. *Sigh* Livingstone was full of people and the music was louder then Charlie's so we danced more and talked less. At least on Saturday we danced a lot, had some drinks, chatted a bit in some quiet corners. There were lots of Erasmus students showing off the dance skills while the French team waited for rock and roll rhythms. it was great fun. We didn't want to leave but we were too tired to stay.

The city is about as big as Bucharest for almost half of the population and the city transport system is very well organized with trams, or Šalina, how they call them here, going to every corner of the town. I can tell you they are also very used at night and useful too, when you're going to "the friend you're going to sleep at tonight", after a few drinks in the bars.

Before I forget, if you go to Brno, dear reader, you must absolutely eat at StaroBrno. They make very good beer and they also made the best ribs in honey, 1 kilo of them on a wooden platter with a delicious garlic bread and a great pint of beer for 300czk, or only 11.5 euros. A delight. And just next to the Pivovar Restaurant is a Pivnica (Pivnita for the Romanians) where they make the best goulash : wild boar meat, dumplings and gingerbread. My mouth is watering already.

Unfortunately we had to leave Brno, this Ibiza of Central Europe, this Nantes of the East, but we will be back, that's for sure, because this place really rocks. And because Brno is to my boy what Nantes is to me.

Gimme, Gimme...- The Best Abba since Abba

Last night we went back in time with an ABBA show. At first it was cold. The show took place in a skating rink and we had to wait more than 45 minutes for the show to start (we were early and they were late) I went to the toilet before the show started (way before) and on my way (the place is a maze) I saw the lines for klobasa, or hotdogs and hot wine, I'm still salivating. We had brought our own sandwiches and drinks (we didn't know about the local treats) and really felt like on some sort of picnic. The people coming to the concert were all prepared with blankets to keep warm : a nation of hockey lovers. There were people of all ages and all walks of life. There were parents with kids and grand parents and young couples.

We had some of the best seats in the skating rink but we decided to go down, in front of the scene because we didn't have room to dance (and we had grand kids and grannies in the neighborhood). Besides the atmosphere, it was also warmer and we still had a great view (ok, he had to carry me on his shoulders so I could see the girl's shoes).

The show was nice, very colorful, very professional, a lot more than what I had expected; they had Abba band members and good band and they sang the songs really well. I must say that I half expected your neighborhood revival act/drag queen show. But I had none of that : it was really a show I recommend. It helps knowing the lyrics. We sang and danced all the evening. And my boy seemed to really enjoy the present (for his birthday/Christmas).

We were making guesses on what song will be next. They sang all the big ones: Mamma mia, Gimme, Gimme, Supertrooper. Of course Dancing Queen. But also some unknown ones. We were a bit disappointed, no Waterloo? Well they left the Eurovision winning song for the end :)

We went to see the show in Plzen, but I could only find this poster for the Brno event. They are touring allover Europe and apparently they are one of the best Abba revival acts.

La Cucaracha, La Cucaracha, Ya No Puede Caminar

Last night I had my first dancing lessons. There have been other tries to teach me how to dance, including my boy who leads me when we dance French Rock and Roll, with more or less success. But this time, it's a definitely maybe, good try, once and for all, now or never, I'll learn to dance or else.

I opted for a Lady's class so I can also improve my social skills and my sociability score (I don't know anyone in this town apart from friends of my boy's and the friend's girlfriends).

And so yesterday, on a terribly cold evening, I went and had my first lesson with a group of other 4 girls: (of course) a Eva, a Petra, a Jitka (I was waiting for a Zdenka or Lenka but Jitka is also very common), and a Krystina (less common). Jana, the dance instructor was a skinny little girl, the kind you're afraid to break just by looking at her. She wore a white short dress, very suited for Latino dances and her shoes bore the signs of wear and of a passion for dance that was apparent also in the position of her body.

The class was fine, even thought I understood like maybe, maybe 1/4 of what was said. which is still good. We learned some postures, hand gestures and a few steps of samba and rumba (dansul dragostei). I left the school very cheerful and had one of my half mute monkey conversations with Petra, in Czech. The classes take place in a school, the kind of communist neighborhood school that all my friends (and I) attended. Only this one was huge, with swimming pool, football ground (with grass) and all sorts of interesting activities (archery club and room).

After the class, the boy and I drove to down town and had drinks in a pub. Thursday night is really full everywhere, I think we're going out this weekend: the atmosphere was great during the week, hopefully it will be the same on Saturday (last weekend was great, nice pub atmosphere, danced, had tequilla shots, the boys pissed in the river from a bridge, they made me an unofficial gadz'arts, I made a perfect snowman at 4 a.m.).

I'm beginning to like this town, I can go out after work and during weekends. And I've got stuff to do. :)

Back in the Czech Republic (2) There and Back Again and Christmas in January

My hoards of fans are on my case to continue the story of adventures on the bus, so where was I? Ah yes, leaving Prague. I got on the bus, I sat down next to a girl, considering this to be the safe choice, the other was some strange manele-listening, jerking off kind of guy. Besides, sitting next to her must be some sort of camaraderie as we were the only girls traveling alone, the other two or three girls were with boyfriends or husbands (there was one more girl traveling alone but she was one head taller than the tallest guy so she could fend for herself).

I don't know how this happens but I always find myself talking to the person sitting next to me in the bus or train. I guess I get bored. Maybe I want to know more about my fellow traveler because we are crossing roads for a while, be it shorter or longer. So I can tell you that the Czech grandma in the Student Agency coach was going to visit her 3 granddaughters from her daughter. They live in Prague and love cookies and being read stories. Mihaela, the Romanian girl on the coach home, also has a daughter; a toddler living with her grandma and aunt which hasn't seen her working mother in several months. The Romanian is working here in a laundry, with other Moldavian and Romanian girls, speaks no Czech, gets a minimum salary and lives in a Ubitovany (like all workers) with her husband, also a worker.

So off we are, one or two passengers more than the number of seats, but at least I have an OK place: behind the driver. Of course the drivers smoked all the way and so they kept the window ajar and I was cold and smoked almost all the way . Had some conversation with the girl but dosed off now and then, that's how it is when you're traveling by night. Ate the delicious sandwiches my boy had made for me, drank very little water, read a bit of my book, Czechs in a Nutshell and that was about it. But really, Bulgarian music and weird looking guys with strange names (Trifon, he had a number plate with a name, that's how I know), I was like in a mafia bus taking girls and pimps to the West (only I was going East).

And just like they would do on the way over, they stopped in odd places like in gas stations in the middle of the road (to let people off or change drivers) and gave no toilet brakes (I managed to snack out). Yeah, I know, I talk a lot about toilet brakes but people, it's a necessity, really basic stuff that Eurolines drivers have to give every 4 hours and these guys had to be begged to stop the bus.

On the journey to CZ, I took the bus from Brasov and not Bucharest because there were no more places so I had to take a bus coming from Chisinau. Ludmila, from Prague, the Orlan girl, was traveling with us, again bossing everyone around and spreading wafers. Luckily she did stop the bus more than the first time. The trip you've all been waiting to hear about, was boring people. I had a Slovak seat mate, a blond that spoke English so we did talk a very bit. And I can tell you my mom's chicken schnitzel sandwiches were delicious. Other than that: boring, nothing to read, cause too dark, I just slept, listened to some radio and called the police when I got bored. Well, yeah, there was a truck on the side of the road, with nothing to signal it apart from a dim blue light that I might have imagined, so I called the cops, cause maybe someone was hurt there, right? Yeah, you've guessed it, false alarm...

20 Hours later, after snow blizzard in Hungary and police stopping us after the border we finally arrive in Prague, right on schedule (it helps not giving pee breaks) altough it would have really helped being late: no bus to Plzen for about an hour and a half (and the one I got was backed) and no boyfriend (back home only in 6 hours).
Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you one last detail : no keys either. I had absolutly no keys of the flat or of the car so I would have been stranded outside in the cold if it wasn't for a friend who picked me up.

When the boy came and we finally went back home we had Christmas number 2, exchanging presents we had each got from the other one's parents. He got an apron fit for a chef and some scarves (he's French) and I got a lunch box and we both got tea mugs and a tea pot. I'll post pictures, promise.

That is more or less the account of my winter travels. Any questions? Feel free to ask.