Well we had a really good Christmas with fillet of beef rather than turkey which everyone agreed was a much better idea. Although there was Christmas Pudding ( and though I say it myself the flaming brandy , driving away the devils and evil spirits,was a triumph) the chocolate pud was most appreciated.
The dog got a whole stocking for himself including chews and doggy choc drops, but also a chocolate flavoured rope which he has taken to his bed for safe keeping.
We are still pretty tied up with snow, but the temperature is slowly rising having got as low as minus 8 and enabling me to walk across the park pond to the island in the middle. If I can do it so can the foxes, and Hessilhead had removed most of the ducks and the swans.
Being a film person, Christmas and New Year is always a good time for me as the TV has many good films with several "network premieres" on the go.
I had seen it before but I watched 'The Apostle" this morning and was struck again by the extraordinary performance Bob Duvall gave. Unsurprisingly, he was nominated for Best Actor,but amazingly (meaning there was an even better performance) didn't win. And why? Because Jack Nicholson gave a performace in " As Good as it Gets" which has probably never been bettered.
The final scenes, when Duvall is about to be arrested, are so powerful and spine-tingling that I would defy anyone not to be moved.
There is one part when Duvall picks up a baby, and shows the congregation its tiny hand.
"See this baby's hand? What father would drive a nail right here through it and then NAIL both hands and FEET to a board until his child died.? Would any father have love enough for the world to do that?I couldn't I don't have enough love.
But God.. God he had enough love. Hallelujah!"
And he did.
Glasgow based filthy property speculator with three daughters. Chess playing, food-loving, Francophile Cavalier King Charles lover with a heavy emphasis on doing as little as possible
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Friday, December 19, 2008
Chicken's Foot Soup.
Well it all passed off very well. After doing some business in Sighisoara this morning we arrived, as bidden, sharp in Mosna for 11:15, to find noone around and nothing happening.No food had appeared, no wine, no nothing.
As the kick-off was supposed to be in Alma Vii at 11:30, we wondered if we should have gone there first, but just then we spotted one of the City Hall people walking towards the Village Hall. Everything had been put back ( could have guessed that) and the Mayor would be with us in 15 minutes.
Half an hour later a pick-up truck roared into view, its lights flashing.It screeched to a halt beside us, and several worthies leapt out - I say leapt out, more like ambled. Ten seconds later the Mayor's car arrived and disgorged a few more folk, including the lead singer and cultural director of Mosna.
Now you might think that things would have started to move forward. In a sense they did, but only in so far as the first bottles of wine were taken inside and immediately opened. Cakes were passed round, some bread eaten, one of the policemen reported to the Mayor that Erne was just coming with the ham bones, huge pots were filled with water and set to boil.
Another glass was drunk whilst the food and drink started to pile up.
"Eh Bine ( roughly OK)," said the Mayor about 1pm. " Now we will go to Alma Vii."
The truck still had bags for the children with soft drinks and chocolates piled in it, as well as huge mounds of sausages, bread and bananas,as well as the obligatory wine.
At Alma the kindergarten and Class 1 were waiting for us, and sang songs and danced to great acclaim, and then the sausages etc were handed out to all the old folk, who were much more interested in the wine.
The caravansarai loaded up again and we went to Nemsa, where the singers gave a rousing rendition of several Romanian Carols, and the old folk got stuck into the wine again.
By now it was 3pm.We made our way to the main event, which was Mosna.
It was like a soft spring day with no clouds. Rather than crowd inside to start with, the wine was passed round outside whilst we were regaled with more songs. It was lovely when people we had met through the year came up and wished us a happy Christmas and a good New Year.
Then inside and before the old folk could get stuck into the food, there were the speeches. First the Mayor, then the School Principal - then me.
Alin had been coaching me and it was quite short - but it wasn't off the cuff and I stuck rigidly to what was written on the paper. It seemed to go down well - but that might just have been because they were having hysterics at my accent.
" You did good Mr. King" " Really?" " Well, I can say, if I am not wrong" Hmm - could mean anything.
Time for food - lunchtime just after 4pm, which is quite early for Romania.
First we had soup with herbs, parsnips, ham, eggs broken into it - and chicken. Somehow they wangled it so I got the chicken's foot, which is supposed to bring luck.
Then delicious fried white fish, followed by pork steaks and Mosna potatoes -which make all others taste flat.
The singing went on, the wine flowed - and ran out.
In many places this might be a problem, but not here. Every house makes its own wine so there is always plenty to hand. Nelu is the main producer, and he was sent to get more from his house - two doors up.
By now the 400-odd oldies were getting quite rowdy and having great fun, but it was time for the vote of thanks. With great difficulty, the head of the Old Folk's Association quelled the riot, filled two glasses, and made his way solemnly ( if somewhat unsteadily) to where the Mayor and I were sitting. He launched into an impassioned speech, mentioning all the progress that the town had made during the year, and thanked the Mayor for the lunch. The Mayor stood and accepted one of the glasses. The two men raised their glasses to each other and solemnly drained them. A roar of approval went up - and the head of the Association made to turn away. Unfortunately, he had clearly had more than he needed - but Cornel ( who laughably thinks he is the Mayor's bodyguard) and Marius ( the Vice Mayor) just happened to be beside him, grabbed his arms and helped him out with no dignity lost.
"Sigh" said the Mayor" I have to do that for him every year."
PS
There are parking restrictions all over Sighisoara and you have to find a parking attendant, and pay for a chit when you park - especially up in the Citadel. I had noticed that recently Alin had been ignoring any need to do this. I asked him why he was no longer paying for the parking.
"Oh, Mr.K, I forget to tell you. The Mayor of Sighisoara is being friends with the Mayor of Mosna. So they do some monkey business, and you gonna get free parking from now on in Sighisoara. But not me - only when I am driving you."
That'll be another Christmas gift then.
As the kick-off was supposed to be in Alma Vii at 11:30, we wondered if we should have gone there first, but just then we spotted one of the City Hall people walking towards the Village Hall. Everything had been put back ( could have guessed that) and the Mayor would be with us in 15 minutes.
Half an hour later a pick-up truck roared into view, its lights flashing.It screeched to a halt beside us, and several worthies leapt out - I say leapt out, more like ambled. Ten seconds later the Mayor's car arrived and disgorged a few more folk, including the lead singer and cultural director of Mosna.
Now you might think that things would have started to move forward. In a sense they did, but only in so far as the first bottles of wine were taken inside and immediately opened. Cakes were passed round, some bread eaten, one of the policemen reported to the Mayor that Erne was just coming with the ham bones, huge pots were filled with water and set to boil.
Another glass was drunk whilst the food and drink started to pile up.
"Eh Bine ( roughly OK)," said the Mayor about 1pm. " Now we will go to Alma Vii."
The truck still had bags for the children with soft drinks and chocolates piled in it, as well as huge mounds of sausages, bread and bananas,as well as the obligatory wine.
At Alma the kindergarten and Class 1 were waiting for us, and sang songs and danced to great acclaim, and then the sausages etc were handed out to all the old folk, who were much more interested in the wine.
The caravansarai loaded up again and we went to Nemsa, where the singers gave a rousing rendition of several Romanian Carols, and the old folk got stuck into the wine again.
By now it was 3pm.We made our way to the main event, which was Mosna.
It was like a soft spring day with no clouds. Rather than crowd inside to start with, the wine was passed round outside whilst we were regaled with more songs. It was lovely when people we had met through the year came up and wished us a happy Christmas and a good New Year.
Then inside and before the old folk could get stuck into the food, there were the speeches. First the Mayor, then the School Principal - then me.
Alin had been coaching me and it was quite short - but it wasn't off the cuff and I stuck rigidly to what was written on the paper. It seemed to go down well - but that might just have been because they were having hysterics at my accent.
" You did good Mr. King" " Really?" " Well, I can say, if I am not wrong" Hmm - could mean anything.
Time for food - lunchtime just after 4pm, which is quite early for Romania.
First we had soup with herbs, parsnips, ham, eggs broken into it - and chicken. Somehow they wangled it so I got the chicken's foot, which is supposed to bring luck.
Then delicious fried white fish, followed by pork steaks and Mosna potatoes -which make all others taste flat.
The singing went on, the wine flowed - and ran out.
In many places this might be a problem, but not here. Every house makes its own wine so there is always plenty to hand. Nelu is the main producer, and he was sent to get more from his house - two doors up.
By now the 400-odd oldies were getting quite rowdy and having great fun, but it was time for the vote of thanks. With great difficulty, the head of the Old Folk's Association quelled the riot, filled two glasses, and made his way solemnly ( if somewhat unsteadily) to where the Mayor and I were sitting. He launched into an impassioned speech, mentioning all the progress that the town had made during the year, and thanked the Mayor for the lunch. The Mayor stood and accepted one of the glasses. The two men raised their glasses to each other and solemnly drained them. A roar of approval went up - and the head of the Association made to turn away. Unfortunately, he had clearly had more than he needed - but Cornel ( who laughably thinks he is the Mayor's bodyguard) and Marius ( the Vice Mayor) just happened to be beside him, grabbed his arms and helped him out with no dignity lost.
"Sigh" said the Mayor" I have to do that for him every year."
PS
There are parking restrictions all over Sighisoara and you have to find a parking attendant, and pay for a chit when you park - especially up in the Citadel. I had noticed that recently Alin had been ignoring any need to do this. I asked him why he was no longer paying for the parking.
"Oh, Mr.K, I forget to tell you. The Mayor of Sighisoara is being friends with the Mayor of Mosna. So they do some monkey business, and you gonna get free parking from now on in Sighisoara. But not me - only when I am driving you."
That'll be another Christmas gift then.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Christmas is coming
Today was spent sorting various administrative problems that are endemic in Romania. They always entail lots of bits of paper with lots of stamps and signatures on them and result in not having to do it again for another year. It's a bit like a perpetual motion machine. It doesn't actually do anything, just keeps going.
The Mayor was insistent that we should be at his house sharp at 5 pm for lunch. Both Alin and I were delighted at the prospect, as Tina his wife is an excellent maker of ciorba, which is Romanian soup. It usually has a few dods of cigarette ash in it as well, which definitely adds to the flavour.
So we were sitting quietly slurping our ciorba when there was a shout from the yard, and the Mayor rushed out.
I can't remember if I told you but his house is right next door to Erne the policeman's.
After a few minutes the Mayor called us out into the yard.
There, in all their glory, were two superb turkeys. A somewhat shifty individual was there as well.
Now I assumed the turkeys had been ordered for Christmas.
Not a bit of it. They were technically a thank you for some service rendered.
The Mayor thanked the man, who then said " Are you sure it's OK having them so close to the policeman's house?"
"Of course,"said the Mayor. " You didn't steal them did you?"
" Er well, no, not as such. I found them walking along the road." The Mayor raised his voice.
"ERNE!" The man nearly fainted and started trembling.
"Yes boss."
" This honest citizen has brought these two turkeys who had escaped to me for safe keeping. I want you to take them into custody and if noone claims them by Saturday morning I want them served up for the Old Folk's lunch."( Erne is a fantastic cook)
"No problem boss"
Now I suspect the turkeys were always intended for the lunch, which was fine, except we now had to get the turkeys from the Mayor's yard into Erne's. Erne, because of his superior police training, disappeared for a few minutes and reappeared with a net. Within moments the turkeys were captured and removed to protective custody.
Until Saturday, when police protection will be withdrawn.
The Mayor was insistent that we should be at his house sharp at 5 pm for lunch. Both Alin and I were delighted at the prospect, as Tina his wife is an excellent maker of ciorba, which is Romanian soup. It usually has a few dods of cigarette ash in it as well, which definitely adds to the flavour.
So we were sitting quietly slurping our ciorba when there was a shout from the yard, and the Mayor rushed out.
I can't remember if I told you but his house is right next door to Erne the policeman's.
After a few minutes the Mayor called us out into the yard.
There, in all their glory, were two superb turkeys. A somewhat shifty individual was there as well.
Now I assumed the turkeys had been ordered for Christmas.
Not a bit of it. They were technically a thank you for some service rendered.
The Mayor thanked the man, who then said " Are you sure it's OK having them so close to the policeman's house?"
"Of course,"said the Mayor. " You didn't steal them did you?"
" Er well, no, not as such. I found them walking along the road." The Mayor raised his voice.
"ERNE!" The man nearly fainted and started trembling.
"Yes boss."
" This honest citizen has brought these two turkeys who had escaped to me for safe keeping. I want you to take them into custody and if noone claims them by Saturday morning I want them served up for the Old Folk's lunch."( Erne is a fantastic cook)
"No problem boss"
Now I suspect the turkeys were always intended for the lunch, which was fine, except we now had to get the turkeys from the Mayor's yard into Erne's. Erne, because of his superior police training, disappeared for a few minutes and reappeared with a net. Within moments the turkeys were captured and removed to protective custody.
Until Saturday, when police protection will be withdrawn.
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