you could make a killing.

 "Everybody makes mistakes, most people make the same ones over and over again." —Detective Sarah Linden, The Killing.

I've just finished the second season of The Killing (US), and though in retrospect you could really have guessed most of the answer from the beginning, I found much to enjoy in the telling. Now I'm going to make Mara watch the original Danish version (Forbrydelsen) with me, because apparently (and not so so surprisingly) they're quite different in pacing and tone. There's a NYT article here about the differences if you have no plans to watch either or already have.

Also, I'm looking for a job. Anyone who needs something done that I'm any good at, hit me up.

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hit me.

On my way through Westerpark to see Filmhuis Cavia's showing of an actual 16mm celluloid copy of Blue Velvet at the Buurtboerderij, complete with speed and focus problems. An unexpected bonus was the ambient stereo environment provided by a herd of live goats several meters away and a house music festival off in the distance. All this sonic goodness was followed by a gig I didn't say yes to, which is still a hard thing to do (not saying yes), but during the movie gentle waves of gratefulness kept lapping at my feet while I focused on nothing else but the story in front of me.

night(s) of the hunter.

The Calico Assassin has been handed her first assignment: we seem to have a mouse in the house. Maybe because Andy and Valentina are on vacation (thus no new mouse food showing up at their place) and that's the mice's normal cat-free hangout.

Who knows why he/she/they are here, but the situation is upsetting the delicate ecosystem of 100M. Mačka aka Calico Death has barely slept for the past three days, she is 100% committed to finding this dang mouse while being at the same time 0% closer to actually catching any dang mice. Among the things she has been successful at is demolishing the dang lower levels of the dang bookshelf behind which she is certain the dang mouse is hiding. Basically she just leaves a trail of (dang) destruction everywhere she thinks the mouse might be.

I wish I could say that her detecting/stalking skills are somehow improving but frankly she shows no real aptitude for any aspect of the whole thing. It took her about an afternoon to figure out how to move a stack of DVDs six inches out of the way, and as I write this she has wedged herself half-upside-down into an impractically small space for some kind of retarded immobile stakeout.

This bull-in-a-china-shop routine is kind of cute, now, in the daylight of afternoon, but when/if the perp appears and any action actually goes down, which it probably won't until we're in bed if ever, I'm certain Calico Death will shoot out of her hiding place like a badly-designed rocket and crash directly and loudly into whatever happens to be nearby, which will scare the shit out of all the apartment's occupants, including Calico Death.

On a more serene note, tonight's foodstuff  is Fancy Hotdogs (real German bratwurst!) with sauteed onions, chipotle crema, mustard, ketchup, pickled fennel, American processed cheese food, pineapple salsa, and basically whatever the fuck else we feel like putting on or near the brats in question. Plus hand-cut artisanal homemade etc fries. Film of the day: Close Encounters of the Third Kind, somehow we hadn't seen it before. Kind of a Piece of Poop.

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pickled fennel.

1 fennel bulb, mandolined
1 tsp fennel seed, toasted
1 tsp coriander seed, toasted
vinegar
salt
sugar
water

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djangooooooooooo.

I finally got a CineVille pass (€18/month for unlimited films in 19 of the Randstad's most interesting independentish theatres, including our neighborhood stalwart The Movies), so we headed east to see Django Unchained yesterday at Kriterion. Be aware that if you show up for a 5:40 movie, the kitchen is closed (lunch is over at 4:30) and your only food choices are candy bars, chips, and "nachos". In Amsterdam "nachos" means "tortilla chips with 1/4 the amount of salsa you need".

Django: I reeeeally liked the first half, no one else makes movies like that. But it all needed editing and in the second half the entertaining wordiness and cheery surreality kind of dissolved away amidst all the necessary bloodshed, leaving us pretty much with Kill Bill,Vol 4. Spellchecker is trying to tell me amidst is not a word. Amid? Amidst is totally a word.

Coming up: a post on healthyish desserts even I can make. For instance I want to do something with roasted bananas, date syrup, hangop (English please? Strained yogurt or buttermilk, but there must be something that sounds better than that), and toasted hazelnuts. Also an attempt to clean out our "miscellaneous flours/grains" cupboard. Millet? Buckwheat? I'm looking at you.

stroker, cranker, or tweener?

We're celebrating this rainy afternoon by going bowling. Yesterday Cole and I celebrated the usual lack of rain by playing every sport. During the football portion of the proceedings I, again, overcome by inspiration, completely ignored the hostile physical contours of this cactus-infested backyard and AGAIN took a nasty spill in the end zone, here's the showable part of my external injuries:

Who knows what further damage was sustained internally, I feel like a punching bag today. But is this stopping me from throwing myself (hopefully not literally this time) once more into the fray? No, let's see how an indoor sport goes.

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In more placid news, it was my dear mother's directive that before I left, for fun we would watch all of this year's Oscar contenders for Best Film. We're not going to make it. Tonight is the last one on our schedule, Beasts of the Southern Wild. Last night was Argo. Sunday was Lincoln. Etc. So far Silver Linings Playbook has been the only one to mean anything to me, but that's probably only true because I can't bring myself to see Amour even though Haneke is one of my absolute favorite living directors...I know that one will mean way too much to me. I do really want to see Zero Dark Thirty and Django Unchained but the folks have already seen them. None of us have any interest at all in Life of Pi or Le Mis. We haven't managed to find The Master anywhere, it's not out on DVD til 26 Feb and it's gone from theaters here.

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Elsewhere: tonight's vegetarian option will be butternut and black bean enchiladas, recipe forthcoming. Basically I need black beans; vegetarian boy to decide if he wants red or green; make the sauce, add beans and cheese to filling; bake.

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dans la maison.

I should do this every week: went to The Movies today to watch a French movie with Dutch subtitles. French is not totally ununderstandable to me, and therefore not totally ignorable as if it were Hungarian or Finnish. So between understanding 15% of the spoken French, understanding 85% of the Dutch subtitles, and trying to find time to enjoy the actors' faces and other cinematic kinds of things: it was exhausting, the degree of difficulty magnified by the fact that the film was a very talky meta-movie about writing.

But it was mostly great, go see it. The first half especially spins out an inescapable and very suspenseful Rear Window-style Viewer Implication Trap for you to fall into. It kind of overreaches and can't make up its mind a bit in the 2nd half, and I think the ending is a bit of a letdown, but I can't say for sure because the audio disappeared very distractingly with about 15 minutes to go. Because it's a François Ozon movie, I wondered for a second if this was on purpose, some kind of a Haneke-style trick, but when the subtitles kept going it became clear there was a malfunction somewhere.

But everyone kept watching and reading subtitles, and after a few minutes you could hear someone in the rafters or behind the screen doing some troubleshooting. They popped in and apologized for the nuisance and went back to trying to fix it.

Five minutes later the sound came back and we watched the remaining 8 minutes or so of the movie, and I couldn't help imagining what would've happened next in an American movie theater in this situation: people storming the ticket counter to demand their money back, etc.

What happened instead was that, as the credits started to roll, a The Movies employee came into the theater and offered to "replay" the last 15 minutes of the movie for anyone that wanted to see it again with sound. Nobody did.

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And then we came home and I made those ol'chile-orange mussels and some sweet potato fries that were actually fried, in a skillet, fried in an expensive amount of coconut oil (roughly 3 minutes per side) with some fresh rosemary and sage leaves thrown in for aromatherapy and then the whole mess sprinkled with salt and smoked paprika. Then dipped in sriracha ketchup. Worth repeating.

And then finally, a boozy and tart €0.75 reklame dessert from De Avondmarkt that I enjoyed so much, I now want to taste the real thing.

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schwarzwälder kirschtorte (black forest cake).

cake
1 and 2/3 cups all-purpose flour
2/3 cup cocoa powder
1 and 1/2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
1/2 cup shortening
1 and 1/2 cups sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 and 1/2 cups buttermilk ´

filling
1/2 cup kirsch
1/2 cup unsalted butter
3 cups icing sugar
1 pinch salt
1/4 cup espresso
1 and 1/2 lbs fresh black cherries

icing
2 cups heavy whipping cream
1/2 tsp vanilla
1/8 cup kirsch

°°°

son of jerk.

I mentioned ze Barbecue Bible the other day, and yesterday I remembered the other reason I bought it: finally a reliable, refindable set of jerk recipes.

I've only made jerk a few times since living in Holland and frankly it's never really worked out, I guess b/c in America we used to tweak Penzey's jerk blend, which was easy and perfect, and dus I never had to develop my own recipe.

So I think the below recipe solves the problem. Last night I made some jerk chicken plus a pineapple-papaya salsa (pineapple, papaya, red onion, salt, lime, cilantro), something called "shogun slaw" with shredded carrots and ginger, and some sweet potatoes, oh yeah and some basic black beans. All good, and good together. Then we tried to watch Four Lions but failed b/c it wasn't what we were expecting or in the mood for, not to say it wasn't interesting.

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jerk marinade (in progress)

2 scotch bonnet chiles, deveined and deseeded
4 scallions, green and white
1 red onion
2 shallots
3 cloves garlic
1 tbsp grated ginger
2 tsp allspice
1 tsp dried thyme
2 tbsp brown sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp freshly ground black pepper
5 tbsp lime juice
3 tbsp soy sauce
1 cup water
3 tbsp neutral oil

Process all this shit. If you're marinating fish or shrimp, an hour or two is good. Chicken or pork more like 6. This is enough marinade for a kilo of something, including enough volume for you to boil the marinade and use as a sauce afterwards.

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all work and no play makes jack a dull boy.

Yay me, I finally went to EYE today for the Kubrick thing, a day well spent. For non-Amsterdammers, the EYE is that white spaceship building in the photos above (next to Malcolm McDowell's giant face) and below (looming futuristically), it's where our old Filmmuseum was relocated to, a forced relocation that I used to regard as completely boneheaded and emblematic of Amsterdam's increasing disregard for historic cultural institutions...but after today I think I might be a convert in this one specific instance.

The exhibit itself was, tja, well done, though I could've stood a few more prop kind of things. There were plenty of great relics nonetheless: note below, the axes on the wall behind the model hedge maze (unique sentence alert?). Also note that the Dr. Strangelove round table is actually a plastic model the size of a dinner plate.

Seeing The Shining itself on the big screen (and more importantly, with excellent, appropriately loud sound) was like watching it for the first time: it was a truly visceral, mildly terrifying experience in the theater, much more so than it ever was on a TV set (where I've probably seen it three or four times), and I mean that in the best way.

After a wintry and mountainous three hours with Jack and the gang, it was disorienting to walk out into a muggy but beautiful afternoon on the water, and the EYE building itself was a surprisingly nice place to hang, especially the rocky little "beach" just outside. There's a grassy patch as well, might even be a smart little picnic spot if you're visiting the EYE around a mealtime.

projections.

I took 7 pictures on the four-minute bike ride to The Movies today. As projected, we saw Meek's Cutoff, which was, mm, good enough I guess, but my expectations were pretty high. It was good. I think it would've been even better if it had allowed itself 10 more minutes to end pretty much exactly the same way it did end.

It's a real story, which I didn't know, or at least it's "fact-based" (I don't recommend following this link if you plan on seeing the movie), and yeah reading about the Oregon Trail just now made my own personal emigration traumas seem pretty darn inconsequential in comparison.

Other movie plans for the week might include finally fucking going to the Kubrick exhibit at Eye today at 13:30 to see The Shining on the big screen because it's my last chance (It's my last chance b/c as you may remember I'm unleashing myself on America in a week or so). Johnny D also hipped me to the fact that there's a new Leos Carax movie called Holy Motors that needs watching. I saw Pola X when it came out and while I can't say I loved it, it was provocative and had a nice soundtrack. And "unsimulated sex", as Wikipedia calls it.

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This next paragraph was a tie to Meek's Cutoff before I added all the other text above, but I'll leave it here anyway: speaking of water, the water on the bridge below (it doesn't really look like a bridge I guess)? It's because when it gets too hot here the bridges stop working, meaning that they stop opening and closing to let boats through. It doesn't happen every year, but the last few it has. So there are city workers in lawn chairs sitting there with big hoses hosing the bridges down all day.

let's get it on.

View Oostende 2012 in a larger map

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Because we need to get the fuck out of Dodge (and because we found some really cheap deals on train/hotel), we're very suddenly going to the Belgian coast, including Brugge/Bruges, and thus now is the time on Sprockets when we make lists.

This is not really enough time for good research, but I try. Our first stop and home base I guess is Oostende (Ostend), which in addition to being a probably typically crappy little beach town is where Marvin Gaye lived for two years and yes wrote Sexual Healing. Awwww yeah. Here's some handy tourist information for me. 


And, I KNOW this is geeky as all hell, but we watched In Bruges again last night and I feel compelled to look at a couple of these.

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OOSTENDE
Stad Kortrijk, Langestraat 119. No-nonsense fish restaurant, like zero nonsense. 
De Zeegeuzen, Kapucijnerstraat 38. Perfect old sailor's bar open from 5pm. They gots a house specialty called Zeegeus, which is a bottle of St Louis Geuze beer mixed with a "secret" cocktail of spirits, of which one is believed to be Armagnac but could really be anything. An adventure.
Taverne Lautrec, Koninginnelaan 75. Looks interesting, it's near the hotel, and they're open from 10am every day. 
Kombuis, Van Isegemlaan 24. Mussels and frites, I know they're not in season, but everything else is supposed to be good too. Open slightly later than most things.
Koekoek, Langestraat 38-40. A chicken-themed tavern whose specialty is roasted chicken. That's all they serve. Plus Rodenbach on tap.
De Bistronome. Closed Tues and Wed. No a la carte, no bar, but supposedly great beer and food. Maybe lunch Thursday?
't Eilandje, Bonenstraat 5. Newer beer place with Rodenbach on tap. Closed Monday and Tuesday, we've learned from experience.
Charcuterie Mazure, Kapellestraat 4. Traiteur.
De Mangerie. Hmm. Multiple recs from internet, interior may be too frou-frou. But the food looks great. Closed Monday and Tuesday. Two locations, most of the reviews I read were from the promenade. Open for lunch and dinner every day, except for the Monday and Tuesday that they're closed. What I'm saying is that there's inconsistent data.
Histoires d'O. Sounds like kind of a good general place, I mean the name doesn't, it means "The Story Of O." But the reviews are nice.
Café Botteltje. The most-reviewed place to drink beer in Oostende, and the food is supposedly good, but the service is "cold, impersonal, and inefficient". Which, to someone from Amsterdam, generates a response of, "And?...." But seriously this seems like a pretty divisive place, and my new research suggests that there are friendlier options.
Le Grillon. Actually looks like the "best" of these restaurants, but the inside looks like the worst of my quiet, stuffy French experiences.

BLANKENBERGE
Oesterput. Have to see what the bus ride from Oostende to Blankenberge is like, but this could be a nice jaunt. Closed Tuesday and from 3 to 6.

BRUGGE
Cambrinus. I've been avoiding listing this because it seems too obviously touristy, but since most of my other targets are closed on Wednesday, which is when it looks like we're going, this might have to be it. Plus? Brugge is touristy. Cambrinus is open every day from 11:30. There are some pics here.
De Halve Maan. Brewery that makes Brugse Zot and Straffe Hendrik, with a terrace.
't Poatersgat, Vlamingstraat 82. Beautiful dark bar, from 5 daily.
't Brugse Beertje. A "don't-miss" according to the Beer Advocate website. Cheese and charcuterie but no "real food". Closed Wed, fuck.
L'Estaminet, Park 5. Local's place open all day during the week for possibly mediocre food.
't Zwart Huis. The site of "gay beer" ordering in In Bruges. Could be wanky though.
Comptoir Des Arts Kunstkroeg. Basement beer bar for before-dinner drink. Across the street from 't Poatersgat. Hours? Closed Tues.
The Chocolate Line. As seen....everywhere. On the darker (purer) and weirder side.
Dumon. Another lauded handmade chocolatier, but possibly snooty. On the creamier side. Find hours.
Den Huzaar. Closed Wed and Thurs. This was our go-to restaurant pick, but they were on summer vacation when we went.
Bistro De Schaar, Holstraat 2. Closed Wed and Thurs.

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bluetooth.

Downside: hangover. Upside: blueberry whole-wheat waffles. Upside: Scrabble. Upside: Rosemary's Baby. Upside: more Scrabble. Upside: Thai coconut-turmeric soup thingie, which is still easy and good.

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whole wheat blueberry waffles.


3 eggs, separated
2 tbsp raw sugar
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1 and 1/4 cup goat's milk yoghurt (or regular yoghurt as long as it's pourable)
1 tsp vanilla extract

1 and 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
1/2 tsp salt
2 tsp baking powder 

Grease and preheat both sides of waffle iron on medium heat for 3 minutes. Beat the yolks, sugar, vanilla and oil together in a medium bowl. Add half of the yoghurt and stir. Add dry ingredients and the remaining yoghurt. Mix until just blended. Set aside. Beat egg whites till stiff and fold into the batter. Pour 1 1/4 cups of batter into the center of the waffle iron. Cook for 1/2 to 1 minute. Flip to the other side and cook 2-3 minutes. Remove gently with a fork.

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mustard, honey.

Spinach, warm goat cheese, crisp bacon, blueberries, toasted almonds, thin red onions, honey, mustard, vinegar, olive oil.

Movie of the Day: Antonioni's The Passenger. Slow even for me, and strange in what are probably unintended ways, but I'm enjoying so far.

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3-d.

Above: Eggheads. Below: mock Buffalo chicken breast and blue cheese salad; pangrattato; roasted cauliflower risotto with pangrattato; Jimmy popcorn; us preparing to be thoroughly disappointed in three dimensions by Prometheus (with the exception of the Fassbinder); riding home before going out again on a Mission of Doom.

days of thunder.

Thursday: a perfect dinner at home. Gratuitously-peppered steaks (organic, but still, yes, sorry), oven-roasted rosemary potatoes, a flawless caesar salad, and a very nice bottle of Spanish red wine. Why is this so got-damt satisfying? It felt like absolutely nothing else needed to happen that evening in order to go to bed happy. And yet we still watched Sideways (still funny) and had an improdessert of Scottish shortbread, lemon curd, vanilla ice cream, fresh raspberries, and a drizzle of date syrup. Really good.

Friday: I saw two of my favorite bitches (three if you include the moop) and ate at La Perla twice. The first time at 3:30pm for a lovely plate of ravioli (aubergine-filled with a bolognese ragu) which was a tiny bit expensive but I'd order it again. And then again at 9pm, splitting a pizza. It was a good and recommendable idea, especially the afternoon ravioli.

Today: two vegetarian things that really successfully satisfy non-vegetarian AMERICAN FOOD cravings: a tempeh burger and a buffalo chicken + blue cheese salad minus the chicken (Valess schniztel instead).

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tempeh burger.

1/2 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 large shallot, minced
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 tbsp honey
1 tsp dried thyme
400gr tempeh, cut into 6 equal squares
6 slices cheddar cheese
6 hamburger buns, toasted
Lettuce leaves, tomato slices, pickle slices, mayonnaise, mustard, and/or ketchup as desired

Make marinade, marinate, cook covered in a single layer at 185C for 30 minutes or until all marinade has been absorbed.

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jab me.

This is a picture of pure pleasure, otherwise known as gulab jamun. And it's in my house right now.

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I must say, I enjoy a certain amount or manner of complaining. You know this if you've read more than one post here...I'd say it's roughly 43% complaint-oriented. And when I say I enjoy a certain manner of complaining, I mean please do it briefly and wittily. Or do it protractedly with an acute sense of the longer comedic arc. I guess make it entertaining is what I'm saying.

One kind of complaint I very rarely enjoy, however, is complaining about the weather. Especially if you live somewhere, like Amsterdam, where the weather is often somewhere between "tolerable" and "shitty". If you live in Miami Beach and it rains for two weeks in May, yes, that is worth mentioning. If you live here and it's 47F and windy in June, well...it's northern fucking Europe. Welcome.

Yes I realize that I'm complaining right now, possibly hypocritically. I also realize that strictly speaking we are in Western Europe. Whatever. This whole area of discussion was initiated by me reading a poem on a post on a blog that I'm not sure I'm supposed to be talking about, so I won't talk about it until I receive permission to do so. Until then, I just post the poem.

THROUGH winter-time we call on spring, 
And through the spring on summer call, 
And when abounding hedges ring 
Declare that winter's best of all; 
And after that there's nothing good 
Because the spring-time has not come - 
Nor know that what disturbs our blood 
Is but its longing for the tomb. 


W.B. Yeats - The Wheel

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Movie(s) of the Day: Jaws (first half great and funny, nice tense lull in the middle, final half-hour really tedious and depressing, I was rooting for the shark); The Happening (on TV, first 5 minutes were arresting, but from that point on it would've been miles better if no one uttered a word...horrible, unbelievable writing, too terrible even for me to watch).

my birthday dinner.

These were actually the best bitterballen I've ever had. And not just because I was rabidly hungry. Our movie at Kriterion (Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy) started 20 minutes late and then had the gall to last 127 more minutes. Which meant that by the time we got to Cafe Maxwell (above) to taste their supposedly delicious 14-euro burger, the kitchen was closed.

But the deep fryer was open and my blood sugar was dangerously low, so we ordered some bitterballen, which we kind of expected to be the most pathetic and bad birthday dinner ever, but they were actually way more edible than your average bitterbal. There was a hint of curry to them and, I don't know, they were just pretty much delicious.  Then we had a couple more beers, then we came home and ate a bag of BBQ Baked Lays (which have somehow only just arrived in Holland) with sour cream.

deep breath.

Wow, like three days at home. With no real responsibilities. Just Scrabble, moviewatching (Mike Leigh's Another Year and Errol Morris's The Thin Blue Line so far), cooking, viruscleaning, and coughing. Yeah, I caught HBF's cough in Berlin I think and now I sound like a robot version of myself when I talk. My writing sounds about the same though I think.

So I''m drinking an assload of ginger tea (ginger, lemon, honey) and just laying low. We're cooking for Amsterdam's Newest Americans tonight so I imagine there'll be a recipe here eventually even though most of the components are well documented: mung bean gyoza with scallion oil and sriracha soy sauce; fresh basil rolls with shrimp, mango, hoisin, peanuts; noodles in peanut sauce.

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black swan.

Saw Black Swan yesterday with the family...it's maybe not a movie for every family. I'm not saying it's amazing, but I liked it quite a bit, at least more than anyone else did. Then again I'm a bit of a sucker for the dimly-lit 70s horrorish stuff from De Palma and Cronenberg...

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Today we are attempting something experimental: showing the boyz where pizza comes from. This will be the first time the full 8-member family is together, and it's always a question of what to make that intersects with everyone's food preferences. Pizza is an easy answer.

The stock response to this menu decision would be "let's just buy a bunch of pizza from somewhere", but I am a bit pained by the kids' disconnection from real food. 90% of what they eat is pretty garbagey stuff that comes from a box or can or the freezer or McDonalds, which I find sad and uninspiring (though they do eat blueberries, apples, corn, and potatoes).

Don't misunderstand a bitch. I understand that it's hard to monitor two male toddlers and cook real food from scratch at the same time, especially if cooking is not something that relaxes you. And I understand the argument that "they don't like anything else" other than highly processed food, but this is kind of a chicken/egg thing: if you start out with MSG and HFCS as your introduction to solid food, yeah, it's hard (and time-consuming) to cook healthier food at home that can compete with that on a taste level.

So, since Mara and I have nothing but time here, we thought we'd see if 1) the boyz would be interested in seeing what happens to pizza before the delivery man shows up at your door, and 2) we can make food from scratch that 5-year-olds will eat.

It's thoroughly probable that they won't care at all about where pizza comes from, or will decide that today is the one day they "don't want pizza", and I am fully aware that it will be a real challenge to cook food that resembles what they're used to in the taste department.

Here are the pizzas under discussion:

Dylan: tomato sauce, mozzarella, pepperoni
Cole: tomato sauce, mozzarella
Erica: some kind of veggie
Kyle: not sure
Pitts: tomato sauce, mozzarella, mushroom and onion
Dad: white pizza with parmesan and truffle oil
MT: margherita
Me: pear, gorgonzola, arugula

Something with rosemary would be nice, but I don't see where it would go. We're also going to try one or more of the adult pizzas on the grill, which should be an adventure.

To make things even more adventurous, it's possible that at some point in the afternoon our cooking will be fueled by these delicious cocktails that Dad turned us on to last night.

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the ritz 75.

1/2 oz fresh lime juice
1/2 oz fresh mandarin juice
1/2 oz simple syrup
2 oz gin
1/2 cup champagne

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