Ma chère famille – is this what we’ve come to?
Seulement à la fuckin Nouvelle-Orléans.

(^notez l’herb fausse, là.)

Paper does not belong on a dinner table, unless it’s a menu. Srsly.

Despite this recent abomination, I signed the silly petition. But it’s obviously too late. All is lost.

Right drink, wrong season.

Right band, wrong song:

Right song, wrong band:

Brighton Beach, East Sussex.

I have a favorite site for (various) neglected ruins on the west side of Crete. Very peaceful there – despite the cicadas.

The nearby highway is a different story.
Crete is an island of total jerk-offs who will aggressively pass you in the opposing lane of traffic on a blind turn in order so that they might make it to their six-hour coffee sipping session 10 seconds sooner. And they will honk and glare at you as they pass by, instead of watching the road.

I went to one of the more famous coffee-sipping dives in Kissamos. The place is called “Taverna Petra” and it has the best (locally produced!) house wine I’ve ever tasted. Bright, ruby red – and seemingly 20% alcohol.

The outdoor seating provides a small reminder that this taverna is actually built on a traffic island (what they prefer to call a “square”) with tiny Eurocars maniacally zipping by at absurd rates of speed while you eat. The agrarian ceiling provides some compensation for this setting.

My salad was served with a spoon for some reason, so I got a plate of briam (μπριάμ) to accompany the spoon.

…and dizzily prepare the only vegan dish I could manage at the time: mashed potatoes.

—

This weekend I bought a bottle of red wine from the Sitia region of eastern Crete. It’s made with this amazing local grape called called “liatiko”…

– a variety soooo old that it used to be pressed on a machine like THIS one.

I’ve never had a red that resembles Sitian wine; it’s like 17% alcohol cherry juice! While I’m drinking it, I’ll blast mp3 versions of my once-favorite LP, and make mashed potatoes (this time with garlic). Though a similar proofage, I guarantee sitia less malefic than Cisco.

A great site about Greek wines HERE, and some cool pictures of grapes HERE.

Light, fruity, and smoky?

To quote: “How is it all so possible?”.

I really just love this picture…

Look clooooosely.

I don’t know the grape, and I don’t know the producer. It never got drank because (a) it’s white wine yuck, and (b) it came from a funeral. Or a wake? Can’t recall.

I gave the bottle to the handyman (who I always referred to as “the monkey”) because this guy does a lot of work and is seriously underpaid. I said it was a parting gift, a “thank you” for all the labour he puts in to the building. I found out his name is Dale.

Uhm, cheers.