Before & After

Whenever I have a couple of days off I take to flipping through outdated newspapers and magazines. I find it unfair to not consume the editions that I selected myself in the first place: unfair to authors and unfair towards the money spent on them. Doing so, I usually notice some things I missed before, or see them with a fresh pair of eyes.

You know, how there are places around the world that everyone longs to go to? Venice, New York, Paris, Rome, Cairo, Sydney to just name a few. The places that have grown for centuries and developed a certain type of attraction, a vibe in a modern language, but managed to keep and maintain the connection with their history, residents, visitors. Places where locals tend to be annoyed by hordes of tourists.

I come from a mid-sized Mittel Europa town and have never really understood the anti-tourist lament. I never believed it existed, actually. Mostly, I thought it more of a PR move. Until I started on purpose to try to sense my vacation destinations as if I lived there. It’s a whole new attitude, people. I recommend it highly. Not only does it make the travelling and staying in a foreign place more humble and modest (and therefore the richer in experience), perception of your hometown changes: you evaluate the pros and cons more self-confidently and you gain the understanding of that before mentioned lament. That not only exists but is true and by all means completely (mostly) justified.

As travellers the humans act as conquerors. As if the fact that we can afford to travel gives us the right to expect that everything must be done to serve us. I used to despise the fact that on a Sunday every shop in Vienna is closed. I thought them downright crazy to leave the thousands of strollers on died-out shopping arteries unattended. Recently, I started to appreciate that fact. Let them have their way, its on them to have it their way. It is I who should adapt.

So, when I spotted this:

IMG_0321
Paul Signac Maisons du Port, Saint Tropez, 1892; taken from Sotheby’s ad in FT Weekend 30 April/1 May 2016

I reached for my phone to find this:

IMG_3694
My iPhone shot of the place on 2 October 2011

What do you think? Did this place survive and earn the notorious reputation because of the tourists or in spite of them? What changed significantly is the density, quality and value of the moored fleet. The old town hasn’t changed that much, has it? I bet the locals lament over stupid tourists all the time.

The Simplest Tastes

We knew what lay ahead so we actually planned that meal the day before. We had bought the ingredients and before we went to bed I fixed the marinade and he prepared the meat. We had bought the already boned chicken thighs so only the skins had got to be removed. No hard work. The marinade ingredients were mixed together before everything was put into a glass container with a tight lid and stored in the refrigerator.

So, the following afternoon, after the whole day of fixing, tidying, clearing and cleaning, both indoors and outdoors, he made the fire and manned the grill while I prepared the crisp spring green salad to go with the meat. We were lucky to get our hands on Gernika peppers, so they were grilled alongside the meat.

I’m happy to report that in true David Lebovitz spirit we didn’t fuss about the authenticity of the recipe. Genuinely Korean or not, this dish was fantastic. Tasty, spicy, tender. I omitted the sesame seeds for the simple reason I stock none and added a tablespoon of concentrated tomato paste to the marinade. To me, to us, it was the perfect inaugural adventure in Korean food.

Chicken bulgogi, ladies and gentlemen:

IMG_0259

And the green accompaniments:

IMG_0262

The day was rounded off with an easy and delightful walk by the beach. Everything around us turned pink and seemed to glow in warmth although it was quite chilly.

IMG_0273

Man, the sun setting was a pure joy to watch.

For the recipe please go to Chicken Bulgogi by David Lebovitz. His photos and descriptions are marvelous.

Vienna Calling

There are many good reasons why visit Vienna. These two were a big draw for us this spring:

Two posters announcing great exhibitions in Albertina Gallery in Vienna

The grand imperial city, poetically located in a draught position between the East and the West, saluted us with grey skies and clear, cool air washed by spring rain that we, as it seemed, have just luckily avoided. Not that we cared, really, we came to have a good time. And were served accordingly.

Doors leading to Palmenhaus in Vienna

I dare you to open the door.

It was on one of our walks that I detected my first peonies this year, not really altogether there yet but showing great potential.

View of Burggarten in Vienna: first peonies in bloom

Our every trip gets latticed by food and Vienna has some lovely offerings, I can tell you that:

Delicious meal of tafelspitz in restaurant Plachutta in Vienna, Austria

I start craving the Tafelspitz as soon as we set the date for a Vienna trip. There’s something homely about it but very Austrian indeed: freshly made from local produce, very filling but definitely unskippable. I’d like my horseradish sauce more piquant but I don’t complain at all. I down four servings of delicious broth before you can say Jack Robinson. Then, the rest of the meal.

You’d have to be downright crazy to miss the wonderful Esterhazy cake or Milchrahmstrudel at Demel’s afterwards.

Cakes and coffee at Demel, Vienna

The quintessential coffee served the old-fashioned way (and the only proper way for that matter) at Meinl’s am Graben will spruce you up again.

Coffee break at Meinl am Graben in Vienna

Back to business, both exhibitions are just wonderful. Each of them gave me a light headache, in a good sense. The Russians’ works of art are clearly beautiful and powerful, the German’s clearly huge and impressive. The stories the art tells are universal: the past lurks from behind the present however much we try to pretend to ignore it, influences it heavily, always using the language of art as a vehicle to prod in our faces, and our intellect, to stimulate our brain and cast the light on the path we’re treading now. We’ve been here before, the humankind, we should know better.

 

Wonderful painted ceiling at Museumsquartier, Vienna

Since Vienna has always been artistically and culturally savvy there are many choices. It’s down to your tastes and wallet condition (highly acclaimed classical musicians and artist, that are the essence of Vienna, come at a price) and how far in advance you start to plan (Staatsoper and Musikverein events sell our quite fast). Anyway, there are always very good exhibitions, national (Klimt anyone? Schiele? Kokoschka?) or international, taking place in the many fabulous museums and galleries. The MuseumsQuartier is an example of how well art can be incorporated into city’s everyday. So, there are always many options to explore.

There’s obviously more to Vienna than this but, mind you, it’s only been a sleepover. We’ll be back soon enough.

 

More info (selected):

www.albertina.at

http://www.mqw.at/en/

https://www.plachutta.at/en/home/

www.demel.at

http://www.meinlamgraben.at/Home

www.wiener-staatsoper.at

https://www.musikverein.at

http://www.kameel.at/

PS

When planning a weekend in Vienna please consider that everything, and I mean everything, is closed on Sundays. The Austrians still have it the old way: they work up to 6 PM on Saturdays, after that it’s weekend for all. So, Saturday is for shopping and eating, Sunday for art and outdoors.

 

 

When Is the Best Time to Visit Venice?

Anytime. Really. Well, a proper downpour might not be the desired weather to accompany you but any other choice of weather is just fine. Just go.

One of numerous canals in Venice with parking slots for gondolas
One of numerous canals in Venice with parking slots for gondolas

I’ve been a faithful returning visitor for the best part of my life and I’ve never grown tired of it. Been there countless of times, on day trips, for a couple of days or just a night, summer, winter or spring, slept in desirable luxurious old school hotels by Grand Canal or in shabby pensioni at the end of a scary dark and damp calle, by train, bus or car, and it still overwhelms me every time. It must be the most magical place in the world. I’ve been quite lucky to have so many opportunities to see and feel La Serenissima, I know, and I am grateful for it. Every time another visit is planned I’m just as impatient to get there as a child promised a toy. Once there, it’s pure joy, content and tranquilita.

One of my favourite views during any careless stroll through Venice in Castello, one of the Venetian sestrieri
One of my favourite views during any careless stroll in Castello, one of the Venetian sestrieri

I can clearly remember my first time in Venice. There was an aunt in our extended family that was very dear to us all. She never married and had no family of her own, thus she was very fond of my brother and me, her favourite nephew’s offspring. She considered us two treasures: we were allowed more when we were in her care than at our grandparents’ (not to mention the parents), she was never restrictive, never resentful and always in a good mood despite innumerable broken glasses, vases and decorative lamps. She always had a great story up her sleeve to calm us down after rioting in her wonderful apartment. She would take me to cinema and buy me exquisite pieces of clothing. She took me to holidays on the beach every summer until I finished primary school where she let me harvest the mussels off the rocks on the beach and have them for dinner. Although appalled at the sight of slimy orangey flesh within the black shell, she did try one just to please me. Aunt Olga was a woman who was invited to dine in the most elegant Parisian restaurants, travelled the world, probably had a fair number of suitors yet kept her life simple, modest and devoted to us. When I was 9 or 10 she decided it was time I saw Venice. So we went.

Grand Canal of Venice in a timeless view from Accademia bridge
Grand Canal of Venice in a timeless view from Accademia bridge

It was summer and the sky was as blue as it gets, it was most likely packed with tourists, noisy and what not, but we had a marvellous time. Although I went to Venice a myriad of times after that it was with her that I had my one and only gondola ride. We had lunch in a restaurant overlooking a canal, the dining room lined with heavy velvet curtains in burgundy, the tables set with thick tablecloth so that no noise was produced when a glass was put on the table, very romantic and elegant. We saw all the basic sights, St Mark’s, Rialto, Campanile, Orologio, the pigeons. It was a beautiful trip.

So, don’t hesitate if contemplating a trip, don’t waste too much time on planning what to see and how to squeeze it all in, just go and feel it. Spend time on the walkways, look up to spot the wonderful altanas, enjoy glimpses of hidden courtyards behind rotten walls, breathe in the smelly, salty air and watch the way locals shop at greengrocers’ around the corner or have a glass of aperitivo before dinner. Just go.

A lonely wisteria adorning a calle in Venice

 

Pigeons are a longtime trademark of Venice

A winter fog over Piazza di San Marco and Il Campanille
A winter fog over Piazza di San Marco and Il Campanille