B U R N

Arguably, the band with the most distinctive sound ever to come out of the 90s, Portishead, has recently released its third studio album, Third. I will never grow tired of Beth Gibbons’ mourning vocals and the dreamy backdrop of slightly melancholic beats and samples.

You can listen to the single, Hunter, on JewTube.

This album is darker than dark, bringing back memories of Tricky’s Angels with Dirty Faces, although it comes across as slightly more polished.

Regardless of the fact that it received and, no doubt, will receive raving reviews, you want to own this album.

My friend from way back, Thomas Winther aka Dambs, combines a hardcore gangsta lifestyle with, um, putting up 250 bird nest boxes. Now, that is higher-level convergence.

I love it and hope the boxes conform to RSPB guidelines.

Check out the MySpace profile here.

Just as I am meant to lock up the door and return with the prefix “Dr” in three months’ time, it seems that all the interesting people in the world have decided to congregate on Oxford:

On May 1, Nobel Prize winner Joseph Stiglitz will deliver a talk entitled Meeting the Challenges of Global Governance in the 21st Century: Lessons from the Global Financial Market Debacle at the Sheldonian Theatre.

On May 7, Jonathan Zittrain will deliver a lecture and talk about his new book entitled The Future of the Internet and How to Stop It.

On May 12, Sir John Sulston, another Nobel Prize winner, and John Harris will address the question: What is science for, what good does it do and should it do good?. Introductory remarks to be delivered by Richard Dawkins.

There really is no place quite like this, but how are we supposed to get any work done here…

Would it be possible to donate Saudi Arabia to a galaxy far, far away?

Whoever said we do not live in a postmodern world should have a look at the menu at The Fat Duck. I quote:

NITRO-GREEN TEA AND LIME MOUSSE (2001) OYSTER, PASSION FRUIT JELLY, LAVENDER POMMERY GRAIN MUSTARD ICE CREAM, RED CABBAGE GAZPACHO JELLY OF QUAIL, LANGOUSTINE CREAM, PARFAIT OF FOIE GRAS OAK MOSS AND TRUFFLE TOAST
(Homage to Alain Chapel)

SNAIL PORRIDGE
Joselito ham

ROAST FOIE GRAS “BENZALDEHYDE”
Almond fluid gel, cherry, chamomile

“SOUND OF THE SEA”

SALMON POACHED IN LIQUORICE GEL
Artichokes, vanilla mayonnaise and “Manni” olive oil

BALLOTINE OF ANJOU PIGEON
Black pudding “made to order”, pickling brine and spiced juices

HOT AND ICED TEA (2005)

MRS MARSHALL’S MARGARET CORNET

PINE SHERBET FOUNTAIN (PRE-HIT)

MANGO AND DOUGLAS FIR PUREE
Bavarois of lychee and mango, blackcurrant sorbet,
blackcurrant and green peppercorn jelly

PARSNIP CEREAL

NITRO-SCRAMBLED EGG AND BACON ICE CREAM (2006)
Pain perdu, tea jelly

WHISK(E)Y WINE GUMS

PETITS FOURS
Mandarin aerated chocolate, Violet tartlet, Carrot and orange lolly

PS. As a restaurant, in the case of guests with reservations failing to show without giving notice, you need to be pretty confident to charge in the range of £80-£100.

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If you happen to be in the process of writing a 10-things-I-want-to-do-before-I-turn-90ish list, I have an entry for you; the hot baths at Big Sur’s Esalen Institute.

Arriving at a remote location at 1am in the morning - 1am to 3am is the only window for outside visitors, - Maja and I, along with a small group of strangers, were picked up by a guy strangely resembling Killer Bob from Twin peaks (do not click this link if you are still traumatised, like me). In a scene not unlike Bill Harford’s arrival at the, um, weird place in Eyes Wide Shut, Bob escorted the group down to the spa, where everyone showered and then resorted to the various tubs and pools.

And this is where the magic begins. Sitting in your own pool of hot, thermal water, which you can ‘tap’ straight from the source, listening to the waves of the Pacific smashing against the rocky walls of the Californian coast a few metres away from you, in pitch black darkness, with a sea breeze in your face, is nothing less than divine.

For the lucky few going during day hours, you might be lucky to watch whales migrating up north, but I was happy just watching the stars (cheesy harp music kicks in here).

All good things must come to an end eventually, and so my 6-week stint in California has just about reached its conclusion. Arguably, the biggest compliment you can give to a place is that you would like to stay there, even after the sweet honeymoon days turn into everyday worries and trivialities; I could definitely live here for a bit longer! (more…)