08-01-2011, 02:02 PM
Greetings all, the tall and the small, from the land of ice and snow. Well, except that it's aboot 25 degrees Celcius, that would be 77 Fahrenheit, outside on a beautiful summer evening. (70 days from now on, it's gonna be cold, believe me.) And yeah, it is my real name, thanks for asking.
I am in my mid-thirties, god forbid, closer to big four-zero. I've been in the hospitality industry for almost 17 years, which is depending on one's point of view, a good thing or absolute insanity, but neverthless, currently running a hotel in a small town. I own a small production company mainly focusing on producing music for TV, films and ads. It is like an outrageously expensive hobby, not a business, but I love doing it. After over thirty years at the keyboard, I claim to know how to play and compose a little, I don't suck at the guitar completely, and my drumming is pretty much awful. (I just watched a VHS-tape from the early 90's, filmed in a tiny club containing yours truly playing a one off gig in a prog band behind the drums, and lo and behold, it still sucked) If I was to warble a merry tune, I would end up sounding like David Sylvian out of tune. So, I don't. Oh, and I like to write.
Current playlist: you-know-who, speaking of "who", "Who's Next", Devin Townsend and Porcupine Tree, and Led Zeppelin.
In the wonderful land of food and drink, especially in the sub-continent of meat, cheaper cuts trump fillet any day for flavor and texture. Hey, c'mon, 17 years in the industry pretty much means fillet every day. If there's pork in it, I'll probably love it. If it's Italian, or close, I'll love it. In the land of green things, herbs (NOT that kind) from my own small garden are a must in summertime. In the dark, cold days of the year, meaning the remaining nine months, locally grown organic stuff from the nearby greenhouses make do. Hailing from Finland means a lot of salmon, whitefish and lake bass find their way into the grill. In the dessert area it is most definedly coffee, cognac, chocolate and cigars (and occationally those smaller cancer sticks, Black Apples, not the Red ones). Now that I am almost middle-aged, and getting fat, let's admit it, less chocolate, more black currants and other berries from my own garden have made their way into the kitchen. Still, me and missus still whip up a pretty mean Tiramisu, or damn fine chocolate cake.
Wine, ah, the beverage of gods. I tell you, if it weren't for wine, those more or less wonderful Greek philosophers would have never come up with metaphysics. Therefore I drink wine, and therefore I am. Italian wines from Trentino, Piedmonte and Toscana in the summer, New World reds in the fall, Spanish during the winter, and Elsass and California wines in the Spring. I keep a bottle of the bubbly stuff in the fridge just in case. Lately, they've been mostly Cava.
For those who are aboot to grill, I salute you!
I am in my mid-thirties, god forbid, closer to big four-zero. I've been in the hospitality industry for almost 17 years, which is depending on one's point of view, a good thing or absolute insanity, but neverthless, currently running a hotel in a small town. I own a small production company mainly focusing on producing music for TV, films and ads. It is like an outrageously expensive hobby, not a business, but I love doing it. After over thirty years at the keyboard, I claim to know how to play and compose a little, I don't suck at the guitar completely, and my drumming is pretty much awful. (I just watched a VHS-tape from the early 90's, filmed in a tiny club containing yours truly playing a one off gig in a prog band behind the drums, and lo and behold, it still sucked) If I was to warble a merry tune, I would end up sounding like David Sylvian out of tune. So, I don't. Oh, and I like to write.
Current playlist: you-know-who, speaking of "who", "Who's Next", Devin Townsend and Porcupine Tree, and Led Zeppelin.
In the wonderful land of food and drink, especially in the sub-continent of meat, cheaper cuts trump fillet any day for flavor and texture. Hey, c'mon, 17 years in the industry pretty much means fillet every day. If there's pork in it, I'll probably love it. If it's Italian, or close, I'll love it. In the land of green things, herbs (NOT that kind) from my own small garden are a must in summertime. In the dark, cold days of the year, meaning the remaining nine months, locally grown organic stuff from the nearby greenhouses make do. Hailing from Finland means a lot of salmon, whitefish and lake bass find their way into the grill. In the dessert area it is most definedly coffee, cognac, chocolate and cigars (and occationally those smaller cancer sticks, Black Apples, not the Red ones). Now that I am almost middle-aged, and getting fat, let's admit it, less chocolate, more black currants and other berries from my own garden have made their way into the kitchen. Still, me and missus still whip up a pretty mean Tiramisu, or damn fine chocolate cake.
Wine, ah, the beverage of gods. I tell you, if it weren't for wine, those more or less wonderful Greek philosophers would have never come up with metaphysics. Therefore I drink wine, and therefore I am. Italian wines from Trentino, Piedmonte and Toscana in the summer, New World reds in the fall, Spanish during the winter, and Elsass and California wines in the Spring. I keep a bottle of the bubbly stuff in the fridge just in case. Lately, they've been mostly Cava.
For those who are aboot to grill, I salute you!
