Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Of Connoisseurs, Good Wine And Hartz Chicken Buffet.





It's early Wednesday morning, Pink Martini softly sounding in the background; creating a sort of "ambiance" that, with my eyes closed, would suggest a sort of atmosphere one would find in a beautiful classy vintage European restaurant; I mean, I'm thinking steak house; something akin to The Ship, but because of yesterday's foray into the whole lamb chop debacle coupled with the stumbling on Oz & James Great Wine Adventure; a nod to the return of unshaped internet, it opening of my mind to a whole new way of looking at my life here in Melbourne, but more importantly: at life itself. I have learnt a great deal of ,um, let's call them facets of everyday living this week. First of all I noticed (from Sunday's watching of Formula One) that most of my life's heroes have a certain quality to them. Besides being champions at whatever sport or genre, and being really exceptionally good at what they do; they tend to have an air of arrogance around them. Now, I know society (and probably your mom at some point) would frown at such said behaviour and you've been taught that it's not such a good trait to have; and people would hate you for it. Well, look at Michael Schumacher, Jay Kay; even Raikkonen. While there tend to be parties that view them as pretty arrogant pricks, and to some extent love to hate them; those very same parties cannot deny their talent; and when on form they just elevate much higher than the rest into a different level from those who can only do things well. What I'm trying to get at here is that it's arrogance that makes them who they are. It's arrogance that comes from being on top. It's arrogance from knowing that you have the ability to do so. And it's arrogance that gives them character. Now, I'm not saying I'm just going to be arrogant. I'm just saying it's a nice position to be in when you can.

Other things I've come across this week are the sudden passion for cooking, and a sparkling newfound intrest on wine. It's a real easy explaination this one. It all started on Sunday (or more likely Monday morning) with the Jamie Oliver book. Okay so I was reading it going like I could probably learn a bit from it; so far it's just a sudden interest in spices and that lovely fish dish I would love to make; anyhow, it all started from last night's lovely lamb chops (see below) and today's spaghetti dinner; when the sudden realiasation that something so tasty could come from something so easy to make; (and really affordable too) just made me point in a new direction, thinking what I could make for tomorrow. I'm sure I was dreaming of food last night. That, and watching the Great Wine Adventure has got me thinking, tasting, and smelling what has to be a good nice dish of European flavour. It's been really educational, that show. It's even got me pondering to go down to the store downstairs tomorrow to get some cheap wine. I mean, I've tasted wines at dinners tons of times, but to be able to enjoy it without the notion that all you wanted to do was get drunk; but as a compliment to great food is still a relatively new concept to me. And besides, if you don't start with the bottom of the lot, how can you differentiate it with what lies at the top? Brilliant.

Oh and the whole experiment of what if. What if I had woke up and just pretended that I was somewhere else. Somewhere like in Venice. Or France. I mean it's kinda hard when Melbourne Central's just staring you in the eye, but think about it. The weather's just about right. The colour too. And the older buildings just give the correct atmosphere. I suppose I still think I'm in KL. I mean, as getting used to the city goes, I pretty much can say that I have conditioned myself so I'm not really excited by the place. It feels pretty normal. But I got a feeling that somewhere in my thought patterns it's just because my brain still thinks I'm still back home. I mean the sights and sounds might look a little different, but they all feel the same. Even the winter cold that came from night walks to Lygon that just numbs your face and hands just felt a little...fake. I've got a whole theory on how this really isn't real. And just some long, dated, crazy yet detailed imagination of a dream. It's just odd. People say how you learn a lot living in a foreign country. I've learnt a lot from a BBC programme which I downloaded off the net while living in a foreign country. Does that count? I mean seriously, I've learnt cooking from oven instruction manuals and bits and pieces of advice from friends and family, but a big part from that cookbook that I bought simply because Jamie Oliver looked like a cool bloke and he was on last season's Top Gear. Does that count? It's the same stuff you can do at home. It's the same stuff all over the world. So, what's the difference? The key I believe is understanding procrastination, and knowing how to push it to a corner. No one can tell you how to do that but that nutter that's shouting and waving his hands wildly whilst running around chasing an imaginary tail: you.

I think this post has gone for quite a lot longer than expected, so I'll just end it here with a hats off to the new "Royal Hartz Chicken Buffet Club" banner found heading this post. It's lovely really, and I really am looking forward to be tasting the juicy, crispy chicken again. Till the next time then; ta!

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