It's Time For A Change

The Missus and I agree: it's time for a change. We have now lived in San Francisco for 3 years and in Denver, London, Stockholm, Greencastle, Madrid, Savannah, Barcelona and LA before that. Life is just too short not to explore the world.

The idea is to visit a few new cities within the next weeks to find where we should spend the next couple of years. We are now planning a trip to Buenos Aires but are also eying Melbourne, Hong Kong and Cape Town for our future life. One thing is clear - it has to be a new continent, some place outside of North America and Europe.

If everything goes as planned we should be packed up and ready to move by June 1st this year. I know, it doesn't give us much time but when your mind is set on something it's all about execution.

Balding, Fat And Almost 40

Why didn't anyone tell me?

The Big Picture

I've always been so much more interested in the big picture than in details. Always preferred context before content even when the latter was said to be king. But I've also learned that the devil is in the details.

I think the big picture is what is keeping you out of trouble. Just look at Martha Stewart, Bernie Ebbers and the alike. If they wouldn't have been so greedy they wouldn't have become fellons.

In Martha's case she risked everything for $40 grand. The media is convinced that she is a great comeback story cause people love comeback stories (which will enable more advertizing). That's the 10-minute, 1 feet over the ground perspective.

But try to take a huge step back to, try the 180 degree view and things come into perspective. Ask yourself: What is really important in life? In that context a lot of the daily noise becomes irrelevant. The details without the big picture are just worthless junk. Why do x, y and z if they don't amount to anything grand.

But the big picture doesn't need to impact millions to be grand. It's enough that it impacts you and your life. I'd say that nothing is more grand than when you are 80 years old and can look back at your life with a chuckle, a sense of pride and a strong sense of personal accomplishment.

The Boyz Are Back In Town

The first phase of decompression, relaxation and reflection is coming to an end. My buddies are about to arrive and the social slacker is now preferred. No mumbling about Feng Shui, soul searching or lets hold hands. None of that crap.

The first arrival is later this afternoon and the next on Saturday evening. It's going to be great fun. As much as I have come to love slacking in the most accomplished sense, seeing your buddies can cure the worst illness.

PS. Big hugs to my homies in Stockholm who couldn't make it this time.

Alex's Roasted Chicken

[Watching Blade: Platinum Edition and drinking Marques de Riscal Reserva 2000.]

Finally, after many tries I got the roasted chicken right last night. It was my buddy Alex and his reciepe and my Bouchon readings / tastings that lead me to the perfect result. I was on the right track all along but had problems with a) getting the chicken as tender as I wanted and b) getting the potatoes perfectly roasted in the same pan.

(4 people)
Chicken:
5-6 pound chicken

Paste:
butter
pancetta
lime zest
thyme

Potatoes:
8-12 small potatoes
salt
olive oil

Open a bottle of wine (Pinot Noir) and pour yourself a glass. Put on the latest Hotel Costas CD and crank up the volume.

Turn the oven to 450 degrees (F). Mix the butter, sliced pancetta, lime zest and thyme in a bowl. Use a-lotta-butter as Alex would say. Rince the chicken. Insert the paste under the skinn of the chicken. Be generous.

Cut each potato in 4 pieces. Add them in a bowl and add the olive oil and salt. Mix.

Put the chicken in a roasting pan and in the oven for 50-60 minutes. Add the potatoes after about 40 minutes.

Let the chicken rest for a few minutes after it's done. Cut it into several pieces and serve with another bottle of Pinot Noir. Enjoy!

Vamos a Buenos Aires!

We finally pulled the trigger and booked a trip to what we percieve as being one of the coolest, most suave and passionate metropolitan cities in the world - Buenos Aires. Feel how the words kisses your tongue when you pronounce them. How your whole body becomes softer and start to move in waves. B-u-e-n-o-s A-i-r-e-s. I feel my booty shake - shake that booty! [Hmm, sorry - got carried away!]

See London, New York or Cape Town doesn't come even close. They are too hard, to rough to say, to serious. L-o-n-d-o-n bounces off your tongue like a basketball. N-e-w Y-o-r-k feels too pretentious, kickin' the sides of your mouth to just come out with an osing poof. Saying C-a-p-e T-o-w-n is like drawing blanks. There is nothing. Nothing.

But Buenos Aires rolls around on your tongue like a great Rioja, teasing your senses as well as inviting you to a fabolous time. Buenos Aires seduces you by it's pure name. What won't it be able to do with it's magnificent presence? Bootylicious!

Slacker Pants

So why are they called slacks, I thought? Anyone, anyone... Slacker? Elementary my dear Dr. Slacker - the name comes from the intention to seek freedom in doing nothingness. Holy Toledo!