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Micromanage my Life - London Edition


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#391 joethefoodie

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Posted 08 September 2017 - 11:08 AM

 

I logged on for this?

 

 

I literally said to my wife: "this is the least enjoyable meal of my life. The bologna sandwich I had at the Tombs was more fun than this."

 

. . .

 

(By the way, I've never been in the Tombs).

 

 

What'd you expect, Proust?



#392 Sneakeater

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Posted 08 September 2017 - 04:36 PM

At least Proust actually had eaten the fucking madeleine.


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#393 taion

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Posted 08 September 2017 - 06:17 PM

I thought he just drank the madeleine-y tea.
I didn't tip at Per Se either.

#394 Wilfrid

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Posted 08 September 2017 - 09:06 PM

He ate the madeleine dipped in tea.


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#395 taion

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Posted 08 September 2017 - 09:14 PM

Many years had elapsed during which nothing of Combray, save what was comprised in the theatre and the drama of my going to bed there, had any existence for me, when one day in winter, on my return home, my mother, seeing that I was cold, offered me some tea, a thing I did not ordinarily take. I declined at first, and then, for no particular reason, changed my mind. She sent for one of those squat, plump little cakes called "petites madeleines," which look as though they had been moulded in the fluted valve of a scallop shell. And soon, mechanically, dispirited after a dreary day with the prospect of a depressing morrow, I raised to my lips a spoonful of the tea in which I had soaked a morsel of the cake. No sooner had the warm liquid mixed with the crumbs touched my palate than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary thing that was happening to me. An exquisite pleasure had invaded my senses, something isolated, detached, with no suggestion of its origin. And at once the vicissitudes of life had become indifferent to me, its disasters innocuous, its brevity illusory - this new sensation having had on me the effect which love has of filling me with a precious essence; or rather this essence was not in me it was me. I had ceased now to feel mediocre, contingent, mortal. Whence could it have come to me, this all-powerful joy? I sensed that it was connected with the taste of the tea and the cake, but that it infinitely transcended those savours, could, no, indeed, be of the same nature. Whence did it come? What did it mean? How could I seize and apprehend it?

I drink a second mouthful, in which I find nothing more than in the first, then a third, which gives me rather less than the second. It is time to stop; the potion is losing it magic. It is plain that the truth I am seeking lies not in the cup but in myself. The drink has called it into being, but does not know it, and can only repeat indefinitely, with a progressive diminution of strength, the same message which I cannot interpret, though I hope at least to be able to call it forth again and to find it there presently, intact and at my disposal, for my final enlightenment. I put down the cup and examine my own mind. It alone can discover the truth. But how: What an abyss of uncertainty, whenever the mind feels overtaken by itself; when it, the seeker, is at the same time the dark region through which it must go seeking and where all its equipment will avail it nothing. Seek? More than that: create. It is face to face with something which does not yet exist, to which it alone can give reality and substance, which it alone can bring into the light of day.

And I begin to ask myself what it could have been, this unremembered state which brought with it no logical proof, but the indisputable evidence, of its felicity, its reality, and in whose presence other states of consciousness melted and vanished. I decide to attempt to make it reappear. I retrace my thoughts to the moment at which I drank the first spoonful of tea. I rediscover the same state, illuminated by no fresh light. I ask my mind to make one further effort, to bring back once more the fleeting sensation. And so that nothing may interrupt it in its course I shut out every obstacle, every extraneous idea, I stop my ears and inhibit all attention against the sound from the next room. And then, feeling that my mind is tiring itself without having any success to report, I compel it for a change to enjoy the distraction which I have just denied it, to think of other things, to rest refresh itself before making a final effort. And then for the second time I clear an empty space in front of it; I place in position before my mind's eye the still recent taste of that first mouthful, and I feel something start within me, something that leaves its resting-place and attempts to rise, something that has been embedded like an anchor at a great depth; I do not know yet what it is, but I can feel it mounting slowly; I can measure the resistance, I can hear the echo of great spaces traversed.


I didn't tip at Per Se either.

#396 mongo_jones

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Posted 20 October 2017 - 03:07 PM

for all those times when you wander the streets of westminster wishing there were a simulacrum of a bavarian bierkeller in range: munich cricket club.

 

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current restaurant review: st. john (london)

 

current whisky review: balvenie 14, 2002, "peat week"

 

current recipe: mixed vegetable torkari

 

 

facts are meaningless. you could use facts to prove anything that's even remotely true!
~homer simpson


 


#397 mongo_jones

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Posted 07 November 2017 - 08:11 PM

london is in many ways a city of chains and one ubiquitous chain is thai square, which has 12 or 13 locations spread around the city. we were sort of curious to see what mainstream thai food in london would be like compared to that in most american cities and so eventually walked into the south kensington location after a morning at the v&a (i mention the latter so you don't think i'm completely uncultured). surprisingly decent food for people not looking to make lunch a focal point of the day's itinerary. unlike most similar places in the u.s, the food is not dominated by sweetness--perhaps because brits have been eating indian food for a long time (which is also by default hotter in the u.k).

 

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my annoying opinions: whisky, food and occasional cultural commentary

 

current restaurant review: st. john (london)

 

current whisky review: balvenie 14, 2002, "peat week"

 

current recipe: mixed vegetable torkari

 

 

facts are meaningless. you could use facts to prove anything that's even remotely true!
~homer simpson


 


#398 mongo_jones

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Posted 16 November 2017 - 03:17 PM

when you're in a hotel by heathrow and looking for a curry, try sipson tandoori. their kababs and tandoori chicken have enough red food colouring to please a nyc gourmet!

 

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my annoying opinions: whisky, food and occasional cultural commentary

 

current restaurant review: st. john (london)

 

current whisky review: balvenie 14, 2002, "peat week"

 

current recipe: mixed vegetable torkari

 

 

facts are meaningless. you could use facts to prove anything that's even remotely true!
~homer simpson


 


#399 mongo_jones

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Posted 16 November 2017 - 05:45 PM

i really don't understand how the links sometimes get screwed up--i entered the link to the blog review but it pops out as a link back to this thread (i blame the russians). anyway, the right link is in there now and you can all go and read about a curry house in exotic west drayton.


my annoying opinions: whisky, food and occasional cultural commentary

 

current restaurant review: st. john (london)

 

current whisky review: balvenie 14, 2002, "peat week"

 

current recipe: mixed vegetable torkari

 

 

facts are meaningless. you could use facts to prove anything that's even remotely true!
~homer simpson