I love food, and it occurred to me that I haven’t written a blog about it in a while. That’s because I’ve been living in a furnished room with a shared kitchen for the last year or so. Circumstances led to it, ahem, I won’t go in to that now.
The point is that this shared kitchen is as near to hell as I can conceive. The state some of my fellow –lets us say inmates– leave this kitchen in is such that I lose the desire to cook. Generally, the pan I need sits on the stove, crusted with… something. All the pots are in the dishwashing machine, which is full but hasn’t been started (dirty dishes are piled on the counter in front of it as well, of course), and the counter is covered with spattered oil… I’m no clean-freak, for Christ’s sake, but that’s too much, even for me. So much so that I pasted a notice on the cupboard exhorting the bastards to keep the fucking place halfway presentable. Lot of good that did.
So I tend to limit myself to salad. I don’t think there is a single being in this place who has ever used the salad spinner, so I can be sure it is as clean as I have left it. Yeah, salad is delicious and healthy… (Hellstrøm dreams of himself eating a three-inch steak, tearing huge chunks of half-bloody meat off and swallowing them whole…) yeah. I’ve been getting thinner day by day.
But, I did recently eat a wonderful meal. The place I work at had an anniversary, and they celebrated by having a colleague cook for everyone. I had heard she is an artist, but even I was pleasantly surprised by what was dished up, so I will describe it for you.
First, pieces of veal tenderloin wrapped in bacon, roasted and then drowned in a heavenly gravy, served with spätzle, which is a sort of germanic homemade noodle (it looks like a bunch of stunted worms have decided your plate is a good place to be, but it is delicious), and carrots with ginger-orange sauce. Oh my God. The German’s say „I sat down in it“, meaning I ate, and ate, and ate. You betcha.
Then, when I was already fit to burst, came a feta-spinach lasagna. I thought I was full, but this was so good that I simply couldn’t stop. Even a stomach shrunken by daily salad just couldn’t say no. The only thing missing was wine, but lunch at the office and all, no dice with that. If I was the boss, you can bet everyone would have been pissed out of their minds.
Then came desert. No. I just said no, I can’t. It looked nice though. Some kind of stewed fruit thing, different kinds of berries, layered with sour cream, very beautiful, but I just couldn’t.
Christ, I love food.


Short, dark, dirty, like a winter day. Nevertheless, there are highlights. Feel the hail on your face, you little fuck? That’s life. Nothing like it, nothing sweeter than that little pain. Those tiny needles on your skin may be the best you’ll ever know.