Johan and Tina’s Wild Weekend Adventures, Part 2

For the record, getting only five hours of sleep is not the best way of starting a day dedicated to cheering up a loved one. While years of sleep deprivation has taught me not to let my mood be affected by lack of sleep and rest, lack of sleep does make the execution of basic tasks such as well laid out, spontaneously generated, fool proof plans for the cheering up of tiny Tinas.. So it was with a bit of starting difficulties that I got up on Friday morning at 10 AM and started on my plan to spoil Tina silly.

The first part of my plan involved going to the store for four remaining ingredients needed for meals and drinks throughout the day. This pretty basic task was made exceedingly complicated by the fact that when I’d gotten up, gotten ready and all, I was entirely incapable of finding my house key.. Anywhere.. I literally spent about a half hour searching through my relatively modest living quarters only to eventually find it laying around under a stack of papers.. Go figure!

Having finally retrieved my key, I set off to the store, thinking that I didn’t need to bring my shopping list, coz well, how was I to screw up when I only had four items on it.. Ahem, well, as it turns out, when I arrived back some twenty minutes later, I did manage to screw up.. Or, well, I did make it back with four items.. Only, they somehow weren’t the items on my list.. Which seemed a bit confusing to me, but then I was really tired and so a second trip was quickly planned and executed.

It all was a bit of a mess, but luckily it ended up somehow fitting into my grand plan because I had Tina on text throughout my entire confuddled attempt to execute the most basic step of my plan and my blatantly screwing up always seems to bring a grin to her face, so in that aspect my grand plan was already working.. Tina was smiling and laughing.. On my behalf, granted, but hey, I’ve gotten used to that. Having finally gotten everything needed for the day, I made coffee, ate breakfast, showered, packed everything up and prepared to head down to Tina.. At which point another major problem occurred: In my grand effort to make everything perfect, considerate, personal and thoughtful, I’d ended up picking out and packing so many damn things that I’d filled up not only my backpack, but also two large plastic bags with groceries, drinks, frozen meals and what have you. Add to that the fact that the weather was actually nice and hot for a change and I had quite the long, tiring haul ahead of me.

Now, I think it’s fair to say that Tina has probably by now gotten used to a bit of slight exaggeration on my behalf in an effort to make everything right. But that’s not to say that she didn’t produce quite a bewildered look and an amused giggle when I crashed through her door, panting and cursing and dropping all my goods on her floor. Giggles turned to laughs and smiles when I started explaining the reasoning and considerations behind my apparent mad actions and I dare say she felt quite appreciated and spoiled once she got over the initial shock. At any rate, she didn’t seem very upset or unhappy during the day, but rather chatty, happy and smiling.. But then again, we apparently have that effect on each other.

After the few initial mishaps, things actually went rather smoothly. Tina worked on her presentation, I whiled away time surfing the web, I cooked her lunch of whole grain pasta with tomato/cream sauce which was immensely enjoyed by all (yes, all two of us) and consumed in portions more resembling dinner servings than lunch, but let’s not tell anybody, eh? Following lunch, we went on a long cosy walk around sunny ol’ Kolding, chatting and part-taking in our favorite activities which include bickering about everything and nothing in particular, disagreeing with each other for the sake of disagreeing, cracking jokes and commenting on the size of Tina’s ass.. Wait, that last part probably sounded wrong, so scratch that.. We also did laundry, a rather simple activity which, like so many other things we engage in together, ended in a feverish shouting battle when Tina dropped some stuff and my gentleman instinct told me to bend down and pick it up, not actually realizing that I was reaching for her.. umm.. delicates.. The resulting discussion was too weird to recall here, but leave it to us to turn something as simple as laundry into a huge argument.

After this first real martial crisis of the day, we decided to go grocery shopping since Tina was pretty much fresh out and even tiny people need to eat now and then, so we got into Tina’s car, drove to the store and went for one of the more entertaining grocery runs I’ve ever been on. Needless to say, it involved more arguing, some pouting, some ordering each other around and, again, a bit of shouting. It also involved a lot of turned heads from random passersbys and a few strange looks.. And why do people think we’re dating again?! Things got really out of control when I started bossing Tina around, telling her to act her age, behave, get out of people’s way and what not. This practice inadvertently got us talking to a chatty elderly gentleman who apparently thought we made a nice, healthy looking, young couple and that Tina couldn’t be blamed (as I was trying to do) for being in his way as he was the one sporting a large gut. I, being the utter asshole friend that I am at times, made some (entirely untrue) comment about it not being entirely his fault as Tina, too, was getting a little chubby. This, of course, made Tina pout and mutter “he’s always teasing me” in her littelest voice, while it sent our new-found friend on a long rant about how we couldn’t all be as slim as me and how he’d just recently quit smoking, gained a lot of weight as a result and was now working out feverishly to get buff and fit.. Which was probably all true, but still a bit of a weird stream of information to reveal to random strangers.

We eventually escaped our new chatty friend and continued on our happy bickering way. We eventually ended up getting a whole bunch of stuff. Needed and un-needed groceries alike.. We even got a chicken! Yes, a chicken! Well, a dead roasting chicken, mind you, but still. I’m not entirely sure how it happened, but we found a whole bunch of fresh roasting chickens on sale and somehow decided that since we were spending the entire Friday AND Saturday together, we might as well complete the happily married couple illusion and buy a chicken that we could prepare together for Sunday dinner. And so we did.. Before realizing that we had probably spent enough money by now and should leave the store.

Safely back at Tina’s, we probably did some more laundry and probably hung out and had a few laughs before I really made her day by presenting her with a homemade Mojito which she happily and beamingly consumed  in what looked like about three gulps while I got started on the Pad Thai dinner, I’d promised her for so long. I must admit I was rather scared by the prospect of cooking Pad Thai for dinner, not so much because I think I make a poor Pad Thai but more because Tina has actually been to Thailand and tried the real thing.. And nothing you can do in a miniature kitchen in Denmark can possibly in any way measure up to the experience of eating Thai street food in the proper settings.

As it turns out, I really had nothing much to be scared about, though. The preparations went more smoothly than I’d expected, Tina did a pretty good job at setting the table and pouring the wine while I stir fried everything to something closely resembling perfection and pretty quickly had a large serving of Pad Thai on the table which was approved by all, including the 50 odd percent of the dinner party that had actually been to Thailand and had had the real thing. The wine, too, was well received and both of us ate till we were about ready to burst. I’ve completely forgotten how filling a dish Pad Thai is.

After dinner, and some moaning and groaning, we cleared the worst of the mess out of the way and sat down to watch a few episodes of The Big Bang Theory before heading out to do the 28th load of laundry that day.. Give or take.. On our way to the laundromat, Tina did what she does best and looked at me with her pretty blue eyes and her sweet little smile and asked if maybe, perhaps, quite possibly, there would be enough ingredients left for another Mojito. There may even have been some batting of the eye lashes, I don’t remember, we all know I have a hard time saying no to cute she already had me pretty well twisted around her little finger.. And, besides, another Mojito? Well, duh!

So, we finished up quickly in the whole laundry department and hurried on back to Tina’s apartment where she got cracking on cleaning up after our Pad Thai dinner while I got cracking on making two more Mojitos. This is the kinda distribution of labor that I can get behind.. And, as it turns out, the amount time it takes to wash off the dirty pans and dishes from a Pad Thai dinner is about exactly the same amount of time it takes to make two perfect home-made Mojitos.. Well, there you go. This second batch of Mojitos were savored over the last few remaining episodes of Season Two of The Big Bang Theory, a perfect combination if I dare say so.

By the time we’d worn out Season Two of The Big Bang Theory, the clock had passed midnight and I was starting to really feel the lack of sleep, so it wasn’t too long after this that I excused myself and we thanked each other for a wonderful day before I headed out the door and home to get some much deserved sleep..

Ten hours of much deserved sleep, it turned out..

Bah.. Thesis, schmesis!

It has been brought to my attention that working on one’s thesis does not necessarily have to be all bad. It’s all just a matter of creating the right settings for the experience. See, we’re still facing some unusually high temperatures here in Denmark, so work is probably the last thing on peoples’ list of things they’d love to do at this moment.. Which probably goes to explain a rather whiny status update of mine on Facebook which read something along the lines of me being much more in the mood for mojitos in the sun than thesis and work.

Well, as could probably be expected, it took Tina all of ten minutes to pick up on it and make a comment that she thought that mojitos in the sun and thesis writing would compliment each other nicely.. And, well, one thing begat the other and suddenly the comment threat warped into us setting up a “date” for the next day – that next day being Friday – involving thesis writing in the sun, sunbathing and, of course, mojitos! As if it were the most reasonable combination ever.. Honestly, I thought it sounded like the best idea ever and didn’t really think much of it until later when I came to remember that my dad frequently reads my status updates as his own little way of keeping in touch. I then realized that me planning a serious working effort involving cute blondes, sun, rock n roll and alcoholic beverages would probably render him either very upset, very confused.. Or just plain proud! I’ve really no idea, but I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

Whatever people may or may not have thought, Friday arrived soon enough and I (having worked the night before) got up at an (for me) unreasonably early hour to pack up my laptop, myself, a bottle of rum, mint sprigs, limes, cane sugar and other necessities to head down to Tina’s for a serious bit of work. I arrived there at around 11-ish and as part of my new lifestyle of not doing more bodily harm to myself than necessary started out by applying a generous amount of sun screen, I then suggested we headed out into the sun.. Which Tina plain refused.. Not until I’d had my morning coffee! I, being pretty uncomfortably hot already, tried to refuse but she’d have none of it an was already in the process of making me up a cup.. She’s right, of course, I get tired, semi-grumpy and more importantly develop strange headaches if I don’t get my morning coffee. Tina knows this and as such she insists and makes me coffee.. Talk about knowing each other too well?

Either way, after a not so enjoyable cup of coffee which however served its purpose, we grabbed our stuff, a few blankets and headed downstairs and outside onto the community lawn to set up camp, boot up our laptops and get cracking.. I set the mood with a summer playlist I had lying around on my iTunes and we had a pretty entertaining time of chilling and doing some work, only interrupted by our constant shifting around caused by the baking sun and our constant chase for at least a bit of shade. We were soon joined on the lawn by some bloke who was apparently out to chill and looked at times more than a little confused by the rowdy youngsters who had now taken to listening to Slipknot and Rammstein while chilling happily and working away. A strange combo, admittedly, but hey, that’s how we roll!

His wonder probably only grew by around 12:30 PM when I loudly proclaimed “Fuck it, I need a drink” and went up into Tina’s apartment to pick up some glasses, some ice, and a makeshift cocktail shaker that I fabricated from a half gallon plastic pitcher (having actually forgotten my own shaker at home). With these things in hand, I returned to our base camp (which may or may not have shifted location in the time I was gone), started muddling lime with the bottom of a soda bottle, added the sugar, mint, and ice, shook best as I could without destroying myself or the drink.. Then added soda and served us up a couple of beautiful mojitos.. Which turned out to be just what we needed on this Friday afternoon at 12:40 PM! I mean, honestly, when do you NOT need a mojito?

With these drinks in hand, we managed to keep our spirits high and the creative workflow going  for another few hours before hunger set in instead of thirst. As it turned out, Tina had the perfect solution for this problem – and even more spoiling in store for us – as she went and reheated some of last night’s dinner which had consisted of salmon, pasta, ricotta cheese, rucola and other good stuff all mixed up and served in the sun.. Yum! You’d think this would be a pretty damn good working day already, and you wouldn’t be wrong in assuming so, but it actually got better as we managed to squeeze in a bit of sunbathing before both of us eventually had to head off to take care of our day jobs (or night jobs so to speak).. Well, fast forward a few hours and this is when the story warps into a tale of how spoiled of a bastard I really am..

See, at around 11:20 PM, I’m stuck at GLS, doing god-awful, boring sorting of various papers just for the sake of having something to do on a really, really slow night when a text ticks in from Tina saying “You’re not off for a while, are you?” I reply that “No, I’m not really supposed to be, but I was thinking of seeing if I could get out early since there’s nothing to do.” – “Well,” the kind girl informs me, “I’m heading home from the theater, how about you find out?” .. It was all really simple from there, I asked her for two seconds, finished up what I was doing, dashed upstairs to where Torben was sitting and asked if there was any chance he could manage the rest of the night alone as sweet Tina had just offered me a lift home. His reply was something along the lines of “Fucking go.. Go for it!” which I told Tina, and exactly seven minutes later, I jumped into the passenger seat of Tina’s little car and together we set off towards downtown.

“Here’s a crazy thought,” Tina said, as we were sitting there in the car homeward bound, and by then I already knew what was coming: “How’s about we drive by a gas station or whatever and get us a goodnight beer?” – “Awesome,” I merely replied, “I think you owe me one anyways!” “Yup,” the blonde merely quoth and pulled the car off the road and into a gas station, disappeared for about five minutes and returned with proof of just how good a girl she really is.. She’d gotten of course not only a single beer, but a six-pack, that was somehow to be expected with the two of us. But not only that, she’d gotten Carlsberg because she knows I prefer that over the Tuborg she usually drinks. I’d have gone with Tuborg because I know she usually plain refuses to get Carlsberg if faced with options, but apparently she wanted to please me. and make me happy, so who the hell am I to complain?

With beer in hand, we continued on, chatting happily of things to come. “Oh, I need something to eat, too,” Tina remarked, “but what.. I’ve got pasta.. Tomatoes, sun dried tomatoes, rucola, etc, etc, etc.. Can’t you just get free access and use your imagination?” – “Well, I was gonna say,” I replied.. “Give me five minutes with your fridge and I’ll see what I can do. It’s the least I can do in return for bailing me out and giving me beer.. Well, that and share the jägermeister I’ve stocked in there with you!” – a statement that merely made Tina go “Ohh!” and beam with more happiness than I’ve seen out of her for ages.. The adorably retarded girl sure loves her food and her jäger!

We arrived at Tina’s not five minutes later where Tina quickly popped open a beer for each of us, popped the rest in the fridge and set about doing the dishes while she let me search the fridge and pantry for suitable ingredients for some midnight pasta (which is bordering on becoming a tradition for the two of us). I settled for some whole grain pasta and a sauce of sun dried tomatoes, fresh tomatoes, garlic, fresh chilies, thyme, balsamic vinegar and sugar.. And a bit of vodka and cream thrown in for good measure.. And fresh basil.. And, of course, loads of freshly grated Parmesan cheese.. Which must have turned out quite successful because while it’s not uncommon for me to hear Tina go “Yum!” and smile, it is in fact rather unusual for her to do it after EVERY bite! So I guess I did well, there was even some talk of understanding of Klaus once having licked the pot after eating one of my dishes.. Anyways.. Glad you liked it, babe

Having gotten our full of pasta with creamy tomato goodness, we sat around for a few hours just talking, drinking beer and being merry.. And had our jäger shots of course! After some bickering and arguing about who would get the miniature bottles from the fridge.. We eventually decided to settle over a game of rock, paper and scissors which eventually made me go fuck it, forfeit and get the damn bottles after Tina started playing random, unknown wild cards such as “fire”.. But who cares. There were no real losers in a game of “whoever loses, gets jäger shots for the table!”.. Eventually, at around 2:30 AM (which is ironically shortly after when I’d originally have been home, had Tina not come to my rescue), I decided I was getting old and tired and needed to get home.. Which I then did, arriving home a little later than I usually would after a Friday work night, but a lot more full and a little more happy faced than usual  after three beers and a shot..

So, who says working Fridays have to be that bad.. Honestly.. I could come to enjoy them if they were all as awesome as this!

I Wanna Be A Rock Star!

I destroyed a LOT of things last weekend.. Parts of a patio table, an electric guitar, my brand new Hendrix tee, parts of myself and a home-brew beer.. But strangely enough, it all began quite quietly and nice-like.. With me wandering around on my own at home, enjoying a day off and listening to some soothing Rammstein.. Umm, okay, so it didn’t start entirely quietly, but things were to get a hell of a lot worse.. It all started going downhill when Tina first called at around 3 PM and convinced me that beers in the sun sounded a lot better than goofing off at home. I actually was planning to blow off the beers for a few more hours as to not wind up too drunk and/or weird, but we all know my issues when it comes to saying no to cute blue eyed blondes.. So it should come as no surprise that about 15 minutes later I was on my way out the door to have beers with the guys and gals in the sun at the uni court yard. I arrived there some 30 minutes later, wearing my usual summer uniform of blue jeans and band shirt.. Which for some reason seems to still confuse people, forcing me to explain over and over again that the short, shirtless buzz cut look  just isn’t very metal.. Naw thanks, I’ll take my jeans, band shirt and occasional stolen rock star shades thank you very much.

Anyways, times at uni were good as usual, hanging in the sun with Saxberg, Andersson, Tina, Jakob, Daphne and various other people with a few beers after a while we headed off to a local park for the latter part of a May day party which featured an awesome Danish cover band and plenty of beers.. Plenty for us and plenty too many for others. Apparently some people had been drinking since 10 AM that morning and with us arriving at around 5 PM, the fun of the party for the thousand odd people there seemed split between watching the band and watching the people who’d had a little too much to drink act out.. Which made for a pretty entertaining two and a half hours.. For some of us anyways. Tina and Jakob left half way into the show to get some food, one of Andersson’s friends ended up wandering off not to return until about an hour later when he was too drunk to even relate where he’d been. Others, though thankfully none of our friends, opted for just passing out in front of the stage.. Good times!

Actually, I ended up returning to the Uboat alone after having lost track of Andersson, too, which spawned a few looks as I’d set out with four friends in tow and returned three hours later, beaten, sweaty and alone.. But it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be settled over a few beers.. And a few more.. And some drinking games.. And a stupid bet with Saxberg about whether or not I could drink 4 beers in an hour – which is of course nowhere near as big a problem as the subsequent hammer of drunkenness over the head.. As a result, the next couple of hours were a nice potpourri of goofing off with Tina, Jakob, Daphne and Tommy, greeting random friends, telling Tommy that sure I’d be at his grill out the next day, I’d even love to be in charge of the grill.. And grabbing Daphne by the hair, pulling her head back and jokingly trying to force her to deep throat a scimitar made from inflated, bendable party balloons.. That Tina had earlier scored off some homeless guy at the rock show.. No, I swear, in an odd twist of events that really did happen.. Did I mention we’d been drinking?

All in all, it was really good times.. With a lot of great people! I made it home at some point, too, though I’ve no real idea how and when.. I only know I woke way too late the next day as I’d kinda arranged with Tommy and Jakob to meet up at around 2 PM.. And I woke at like 1:40. Anyways, I texted up Tommy and found out that I was the first he’d actually heard from that day so I shouldn’t really worry too much.

Instead, some of us ended up meeting up at around 3 PM then sending Tina off to work before Tommy, Jakob and I went shopping for greens, meat, coals, beers, some soda and Gin and Tonics for the evening ahead. We then dragged ourselves and our purchases off to Tommy’s where we crashed on his patio thing with a few beers and a Gin and Tonic and kicked back for a while, drinking a few cold ones to keep the hangovers at bay.. As the day and evening trickled on, others started arriving.. First Andersson who was absolutely beaten and scarred from the night before, then Michael and Martin and finally Champ and his girlfriend, Signe..

As they arrived, and we all shared a good laugh over me partially drunk trying to light a couple of fires in rather considerable gusts of wind, we got the festivities under way. I had two grills going, one of which was embedded in Tommy’s patio table. I kicked things off by lighting that one a little too hot and as a result scorching large parts of the wooden frame around it. Not being one to let a single mishap stop me, I then proceeded to overload both grills and as a result dumping a T-bone I was doing for myself onto the coals. Champ was nice enough to go “wash my steak” while I struggled on and eventually got everybody served.. Which kept people quiet for quite some time which I took as a sign that I’d done well.

As we ate, people started complaining about getting cold which I didn’t really understand, but I did agree to move down inside into Tommy’s living room as soon as we’d finished eating.. Which we then did and had a ton of fun with. We hung out for a good few hours until Tina got off work and we greeted her into the flock.. And pretty quickly traded Jakob out for her as he was simply too beat from Friday to go on. We eventually lost Andersson, too, and Tommy wasn’t looking too hot by the end of the night either. I was about ready to go home as well when Michael, Tina, Martin and I started talking about hitting the sleazier parts of town just for shits and giggles. Which pretty quickly turned into a new master plan, but not before I’d been on my back on Tommy’s floor, trying to chug wine from a 3 liter box and messing it up horribly, sending cascades of wine seeping down my cheeks and shoulders and onto my t-shirt.. Where I imagine it mixed well with the spray of beer that’d hit me not too long before as a bottle exploded on me as I tried to open it..

All in all, I ended up leaving Tommy’s with the guys and girl in tow, semi-dry and reeking of beer and wine.. While carrying Tommy’s old electric guitar which he’d let me have on the single condition that I smashed it and took pictures.. Something I decided to do right then and there on the street as we made it outside to what is basically the street walk right in front of Kolding’s most alternative/rock-ish club.. And I did better than just take pictures, I got a video of it as well.. Just to prove the stupidity of it all. And how surprisingly hard it actually is to smash an electric guitar:

After I’d finished and generated cries of both “No.. No!” and “Rock n Roll!!!” .. Groupthink set it.. And drunken groupthink at that.. And we got around to thinking that “Hey, wouldn’t it be the funniest thing in the world if we took the thing bar hopping with us and tried to sell it for beer or drinks?” As a result, we piled into one of the nearest and trendiest bars with Tina looking gorgeous as ever, the guys looking trendy as always and me sporting beer soaked long hair, a wine stained Jimmi Hendrix t-shirt and a smashed up white Fender guitar under my arm.. That I was by then bleeding profusely over as I’d managed to cut my hand on several places on the broken neck. Strangely, security did absolutely nothing to stop us, they merely laughed.. But we did get a few pretty weird looks at the bar.. And nothing much more, so we ventured on on our quest to find more bars.. I even managed to dump the guitar somewhere.. I probably should’ve kept it as as Johan Johansen signature, but oh well, it was getting a real pain to drag around, so I left it outside the next bar en route.. Which was a more sleazier kind of place which was evident by the cheaper prices for the round of beers that Martin bought, the poor live music and the fact that within ten minutes I had to step up and use my drunken logic to get us out of two fights that we nearly got into, including one with the live musician who was in the middle of his set.

And that’s before things even really got crazy. See, someone.. And by someone, I mean Tina.. Got the great idea that since we were already in the sleazier part of time, we should hit every bar down that street (which is like five on a good day) and have shots at each place.. Already running drunk enough to have smashed a guitar and myself, my reasoning stood no chance.. And besides, it’s well known that I have problems saying not to above mentioned cute, blonde, blue eyed girl.. So a deal it was then. Michael kicked things off by walking up to the bartender and ordering 12 shots which we threw down in like two minutes between the four of us, leaving just enough of a pause to almost get in another fight with one of the locals.

We then pressed on, moving a few hundred meters down the street to a respectable establishment called “New York City” which I’ve only been to once and my only memory from that one trip being that the barkeep at the time asked me after my order if I could please pay in cash as “the whole card business was a little too complicated to figure out right then.” They were apparently on last call when we arrived so we barely had time to throw down a Jager shot each – I think.. Tina, correct me if I’m wrong – before moving on to the next place on our route, Domhuset, which was also on last call (a popular trend right around 2 AM, I guess) but they also managed to hand over four of their signature shots – a vile concoction of vodka and pop rock candy.. Which didn’t go well with anybody, but at least they were cheap. We gathered by now that last call apparently was all the rage and since we only had one place left to go, “Kontoret” (The Office), we quickly moved on as it was now exactly 1:56 AM.. And we made it, barely, so we didn’t really have much time to think about what we wanted.. For some reason someone suggested tequila which I went along with despite the fact that I knew it’d suck.. There’s no way what something served in a place like that could be anything other than Sierra tequila and synthetic lemon juice served with age-old table salt.. An assumption I turned out to be correct in, but for some reason it went down anyways.. This being Tina’s round, I’d say she got me back pretty good for the vodka/pop rock mix

Besides our little rock start stunt at our first stop, I’d say Kontored is probably where we created the most confusion out of any place we ventured that night. Mainly because we walked in, all of us, even me – being at least 10 years younger than anyone in the bar, begged our way to four tequila shots, threw them down in an instant and then filed, all four of us, into the ladies’ rest room.. The reasoning being that Tina had said there’d be pictures of naked men out there, and for some drunken reason we all wanted to see that.. Only we neglected to tell this part to anybody, so we just kinda went in there and returned a bit later.. After which we again left the bar and staggered back to our first stop of the night to actually pay or dues and buy one last shot there.. Which I ended up paying for and which turned out nearly twice as expensive as the other rounds that evening because we were now apparently back in the trendy side of town.. But oh well, I could probably afford it better than the rest of my entourage anyways and since I don’t ever really go out on mad spending sprees anymore, it’s all good.

Besides, my reasoning had pretty much stopped working by then, so we just threw down our shots quickly and decided to call it a night which I’m sure everybody would have done after seven-eight shots and a beer in like – I don’t know – just under an hour. I ended up walking Tina home before returning home myself, and I’m reasonably sure she ended up picking up the neck of the broken guitar on the way.. But my memory kinda escapes me a little after two days of heavy drinking.. It was one hell of a fun time, though.. We should do that again some time!

Sleep deprivation, Murder Ballads and dry martinis

Well, that didn’t go too well.. Of course I didn’t make it to bed in due time last night, of course I juuuust had to finish reading Slash’s autobiography. And of course I had to end up staying up till 5 AM.. And then have trouble sleeping.. And of course I had to have my alarm go off at 10 AM, so that I might be at Tina’s in good time for our little working on thesis adventure.. Oh it was an interesting morning.. I think I might have actually ended up falling asleep in the shower a few times, and I think I might’ve accidentally gulped down my morning supplements with a mouth full of coffee rather than the glass of water I’d set aside for the very purpose.. See? Fun!

Either way, it only took me about two hours total to get down to Tina’s – where I walked right into a right scolding having something to do with me accidentally leaving my jacket behind at home and being too tired and lazy to walk back and get it once I’d made it half way there and realized I was actually a jacket short.. Apparently if I land myself another cold I’m not getting any sympathy or help this time around – I suppose that’s only fair. So, having argued a bit over my well-being, we sat down and walked a bit on our respective assignments which went well, for all of a half hour or so.. When things then went not so well for another half hour – before we decided to just fuck it and go for a walk around downtown and the lake which was rather cozy and colder for some than others, that some not being me.

Having already succeeded in wasting a lot of time that could have been spent working, we decided, once we’d gotten back home, to go for a short drive to drop off some stuff at Tina’s dad’s office.. Which also proved a lot more fun than working. We then drove back home, had lunch, worked for another odd hour or so, before boredom once more got the better of us. At this time, though, the clock was rapidly approaching 5 PM and I had to start heading home to get dinner under way and what not.. And besides Tina had a movie date with Jakob.. So off I went, stopping along the way at a record store to blow some money and some steam. I ended up getting Springsteen’s acoustic “Devils & Dust” album and a couple of Nick Cave records as well.. “Let Love In” which I wanted mainly because it had Loverman on it  (which sadly by some is probably best known as a Metallica cover on Garage Inc) and “Murder Ballads” which I wanted mainly because I remembered it to be an awesome album and it features duets with both Kylie Minogue and PJ Harvey.. So there. Oh, okay.. I wanted them for another reason as well, namely that Cave is playing this year’s Roskilde Festival and I’m pissed about not going.. So there, I said it.

Anyways, I got home, cooked dinner, ate dinner and put Murder Ballads on while I did the dishes. Which is when I was completely blown away as I’d absolutely forgotten all about the sheer intensity, darkness, feelings, melodies and haunting emotions of Nick Cave’s music. Now, I’m not really sure what a strict Christian upbringing coupled with a criminal youth, losing your father at age 19 and 20 years of heroin abuse does to a person, but I’m willing to bet it’s not much good.. Because, really, Nick Cave is messed up! In a really, really good kinda way.. His music is haunting and fascinating.. In that really morbid kinda way that sorta makes you feel freakish for liking it.

And granted, Murder Ballads probably isn’t his happiest work to start with coz, well, the songs mostly center around.. You guessed it. Actually, I think the only song that doesn’t involve murder is the very last track on the album, Death Is Not The Ends (which, speaking of covers, is actually a Dylan cover). In the remaining 9 songs on the album, the accumulated death count rises to a total of 64 which is.. impressive to say the least.

But it’s still a very good album which in some obscure way provided a really nice backdrop for doing dishes.. And even now, while I’m on my third iteration, provides a very good backdrop for sipping a single dry martini (Two measures of Tanqueray, one measure of Noily Prat and a pepper stuffed olive, thank you very much) after a long day and a job (somewhat) well done.. Hey, I did get SOME things done today! Now hopefully this wee drink will help me get to sleep a little earlier than 5 AM!

I’ve done a lot of stupid shit in my life

Accidentally lighting myself on fire while trying to cook a nice, home-made meal for Tina is probably one of the worst.. But, alas, the human torch fire display was but the culmination of a long cooking tale involving, literally, blood, sweat, tears and way too few beers.. I guess we’d better take it all the way from the start, huh?

See, it’s no secret – especially for readers of this blog – that student life is hard, financially, at times.. As such, a freezer makes for a valuable investment as bulk purchases and shopping during sales makes for an easier strain on the food budget.. So, a few months ago, I came across both a bunch of chuck and a small mountain of ground beef and pork on sale at a price which in no way made me think twice about stocking up on about four pounds of chuck and six pounds of ground goodness.

I subsequently spent the next few weeks wondering what to do with this huge pile of meat I’d gotten my hands on.. And suddenly the idea dawned to me that, hey, I was not the only one suffering under a financial strain.. So maybe I should get hold of Tina and ask her if she’d be interested in splitting the expenses if we were to get together and cook up a huge batch of Chili Con Carne and Bolognese. As it turned out, Tina had no real problems with getting some 15 ready cooked meals at the price of DKK 10-15 a pop, so a date was settled dedicated largely to cooking, hanging out and listening to heavy fucking metal!

That very day, as mentioned in an earlier post, came off to a really odd start with my bedroom being invaded by random carpenters at 8 AM.. It also came off to a rather bad start for Tina who wasn’t feeling too well in the morning, but none the less pulled herself together and showed up only slightly, yet fashionably, late.. Leaving me just enough time to not only cut up the chuck and aromatic vegetables before she arrived, but also to sink the tip of my Global Chef knife into my right index finger.. But that was to be expected, it’s how I roll after all.

Either way, with Tina having safely arrived, cooking commenced with great precision and astonishing speed. I’ve always been notoriously bad at letting people assist me while cooking. My dad’s pretty much always been the only person allowed to do so, but I’m by now learning to let Tina help as well – and hey, it only took me five years! So, while I took on sweating vegetables and more or less coming up with a plan for what was to happen, I put Tina on spice roasting duty.. Roasting and grinding your own spices is a good way of getting every bit of flavor and aroma out of spices. When working with really hot, dried chilies, it’s also a good way of inducing tears and coughing.. A small, yet important, fact I’d forgotten all about, but which pretty quickly added tears to our tale of blood, sweat, tears and way too few beers.. But Tina championed through, showing not only great skill in handling a cast iron skillet at about half her own weight, but also at subsequently pounding the shit out of said spices.. Whether the coughing and the tears the spices caused her attributed to her being so eager to grind them finely, I don’t know, but the fact of the matter is she produced a great, fine chili blend.. Which was subsequently added to the browned chuck along with coffee, beer, some chipotle, tomatoes and additional seasoning.

“Can I stir this,” Tina said looking at the fuck off pot of would be Chili Con Carne. “Heaven forbid no!” I replied, not wanting the whole, tinned tomatoes to break up before their bitterness had had a chance to cook out a bit. “Well, aren’t you glad I asked?” she promptly smiled back, making yet another stab and reference to a situation where I may or may not have yelled at her a bit for stirring a pot she wasn’t supposed to. A situation I’ve tried hard ever since to make her forgive and forget.. Something that evidently hasn’t happened yet.

Either way, into the oven the chili went and we then set out on adding said six pounds of ground meaty goodness to another pot in order to build the bolognese. This, in turn, almost turned out a huge mess as I hadn’t really calculated on six pounds of meat and two pounds of veggies taking up a lot of fucking space, so the pot was a bit on the small side, but held up.. Even after adding a bunch of canned tomatoes and a splash of red wine. This splash of wine set Tina off with another spiteful comment as she remarked (in reference to Heston Blumenthal) that she thought real chefs used an entire bottle of wine. My reply was something along the lines of “Fuck you, sweetheart!” as I raised the bottle and emptied it into the bottle. This prompted first a shriek of surprise and then a burst of laughter as she apparently “didn’t think I’d actually do it.” I, of course, held that she’d known me for five years now and should know better!

These small arguments and the addition of a bottle of wine effectively ended stage one of the cooking process and we quickly jumped into stage two.. Reduction, reduction, reduction.. A tedious process which involves simmering dishes for hours on end in order to evaporate water and intensify flavors, and which I consider one of the few things besides wine production and cooking with butter that the French ever got right. The good thing about reduction cooking is that it’s pretty much just a waiting game allowing us to do all sorts of things on the side such as shopping, arguing, talking to my mother who we happened to run into at the super market and somehow convince people that we’re some odd couple of sorts.. Seriously, you yell at Tina ever so slightly from the dairy section some eight meters away to put down the fruit she’s fondling because “No, we’re not getting that!” – and suddenly everybody thinks you’re together or something.. Sheesh!

Safely returned from the store and the prying looks of soccer moms who seemed to be of the opinion that we were undergoing some sort of marital crisis, we did the first batch if dishes, watched an episode of Top Gear, at the fruit I’d obviously not convinced Tina to put down.. And then sent out to do some more crying! See, Tina really wanted French onion soup and I’d promised I’d cook  it for her some day.. So what better day than that very day? Now, the good thing about French onion soup is that it’s good.. The rather bad thing about French onion soup is that the production process involves peeling and cutting well over two pounds of onions.. Which was okay for Tina who was wearing contacts but started to kinda get to me in the end.. The suffering I endure for the people I love!

Either way, it was all soon over because as luck (and logic) would have it, peeling and cutting onions is a much faster process when you’re two at work rather than when you’re doing it alone. So, into the pot the onions went and into the living room we went while the onions were allowed to sizzle away and caramelize on their own. I spent the time by properly schooling Tina into the black arts by forcing her to watch “Metal: A Headbanger’s Journey” which I figured it was about high time for her to watch as she’s starting to really get into metal (which both in some strange way both fascinates and scares me) and the movie really helps define and explain the ways of the metal.

After the movie and after the onions had met some Chardonnay, some beef broth and various herbs, it was time for Tina to go on with her active chores if the day.. Namely going to the gym.. Which left me in charge of finishing off the various dishes we had cooking and cook up a few more as Tina had left me with the responsibility to figure out dinner.. And wine, most importantly! Her only request was that we have a bit of the soup for starters.. So off to the store I went, again, and looked for something that’d go well on top of onion soup and white wine.. Chicken somehow became the obvious choice.. I had some leeks left in the fridge from earlier.. And well, leeks’ best friend in the world would probably have to be.. Bacon! (believe it or not!).. So, chicken over fried bacon and leeks in a light cream sauce featuring plenty of black pepper, chardonnay and Noily Prat it was.. Topped with cheese and raw leeks, of course.

Granted, chicken is a bit of a gamble with Tina as I’m still guiding her onto the goodness of chicken.. So, my genius plan was to mix up a Mojito for her as she arrived back, get her tipsy, then lay down the plan! A plan that worked just beautifully, coz, well, a well-made Mojito is one of the few tricks I know, and will admit to using, to get my will over Tina.. Lasagna is another, but that’s another story.. Not that I think she’d really mind the menu anyways, but I kinda wanted a Mojito, too, so there.. And what a hit that was, prompting compliments from Tina as she arrived back and inducing comments such as “pre-made drink mixes is for fucking idiots who don’t know what they’re doing.. Which is why I’ve got you!”

As it turned out, the menu was approved, too, without much fuzz and she did seem impressed with my borderline ritualistic way of preparing French Onion Soup.. Which went all well up until the point where the bowls with croutons and cheese on top had been under the broiler and I were to evacuate them from the oven, using my fancy oven mittens courtesy of my grandma.. For some reason, I wasn’t really paying attention to my doing so rather than grabbing the bowls, I thrust both hands onto the broiling elements of the oven, not really realizing anything was wrong until I saw the look on shock on Tina’s face and started smelling something burning. 

“This is a problematic result,” I proclaimed as I pulled a burning mitten out of the oven, blew out the smoke and started to laugh and crack jokes at my own stupidity, not realizing that my other hand was, in fact still on fire.. Tina, apparently now used to my ingenuity in finding new ways of hurting myself, didn’t really say much as I struggled to beat out the fire in my mitten-clad left hand with my own right hand.. Now freed of its mitten.. She simply shook her head, going, “only you would do something like this..” “Yes,” I acknowledged, after having fought down the flames and finally gotten the little soup crocks out of the oven.. “But look, I made cute, little starters.”

So, that was the fire aspect of the tale of blood, sweat and tears.. And still, the only damn beer involved was the one that went into the Chili.. But no worries! The last cooking procedures were about done and we spent the rest of the night more or less feasting on French Onion Soup, Chicken with Fresh Pasta, expensive Chardonnay.. And Rammstein and Slipknot.. Y’know, to add to the sophistication.. Or whatever, it was good times.. But all good times have to come to an end and at around 0:30 AM, we decided we’d probably had enough so we set out on bagging the large amounts of freezer food we’d prepared over the course of the day, threw half of it in a bag for Tina and I then walked her home before making my own way back home for a bit of rest and some much needed sleep.. Which, I’m happy to say, was in no way interrupted by unknown carpenters.

Do’s and Don’ts of Mojito making, part two

What’s the definition of when you know somebody TOO well? I’m not too sure, but after last night I’ve some idea. I’d say that Tina and I know eachother too well when she can text me saying, I’ve just rounded this and that corner on my way to your place and I go, oh, judging by the length of her legs, that means I should start making Mojitos now.. And then have a couple ready by the split second she enters the room.

Yes, freaky, I know, but sure made her happy. Tina sure loves her mojitos.. And mine apparently. Actually, she, quite surprisingly, fessed up last night that even having traveled the world and tried Mojitos from anywhere from Øster Lindet through Paris to Bangkok, mine were still her favorite!

Which, honestly, pisses me off! Not because I don’t think it’s an insanely sweet and honest compliment to come up with.. More because of the fact that, fuck.. If I can do it, anybody can! Especially a well-paid bartender in some upscale bar on the other side of the globe! A Mojito is not a difficult drink to produce and you certainly do not need to be a top-notch mixologist to mix one up. Yet, some of the most frequent search terms on my blog are “premade mojito” and “mojito mix”.. Friends.. Please.. Stop!

Okay, apparently my first post did not have much success in conveying the message, sp lets recap, then.. Shall we? But first things first, credit where credit is due: I owe Jeffery Morgenthaler some credit for his initial inspiration, and I also owe Scotte a lot of credit on his tireless work of comparing rums and finding the best for the job, his dedication has inspired countless experiments of my own.

With that out of the way, lets have a look at the DONT’s of Mojito-making.. These should be pretty simple rules, but I do suspect it’s where a lot of people go wrong:

• Do not use bottled lime juice for a Mojito, this is a carnal sin in Mojito-making and drink culture in general! Use fresh limes and squeeze them as needed! Nothing rivals the taste of freshly squeezed lime juice.
• Do not over-muddle the mint. It will turn into mush and destroy the flavor profile.. As over-bruising or chopping of any fresh herb will do.
• DO NOT use Bacardi White rum in a Mojito!! I can not stress this enough. This is, sadly, a common mistake that will more than likely get you shot in certain parts of the world.
• Do not use crushed ice in a Mojito, it waters everything down and well, we don’t want that.
• Do not expect to be able to fix a Mojito in anything less than a couple of minutes, another common mistake of some chain restaurant bartenders.

Additional notes on rums for Mojito-making: Did I mention not to use Bacardi? Good! I know fully well that Bacardi is a CHEAP alternative, but that doesn’t mean it’s a GOOD alternative. A good third of a proper Mojito (not counting ice) is rum, so make it a good rum. I suspect a good reason why many Mojitos taste like crap is because a bad rum was used and as such more sugar, more juice or ungodly amounts of mint is used to disguise the taste. You do not want to disguise the taste of the rum in a Mojito, so get the good stuff. Preferably the good Cuban stuff such as (at the very least) a Havana Club Anejoo Bianco. If you live in a part of the world where politics rule more than common sense and you are unable to get Havana Club, Scotte suggests that Ron Matusalem Platino works well as a substitute. My personal favorite is Havana Club Añejo 3 Años so that’s what you’d get in a Mojito at my house.. Basically that’s pretty much my go-to mixer for recipes that call for white rum. I’ve tried premium aged rums as well, adding ice and sugar to premiums turned out to be a bit of an insult to all things rum.

Okay, with that out of the way (Who said “geek?”).. Here’s 11 simple steps to producing a Mojito cocktail:

• Grab a glass and chill it either by adding ice to it while mixing or sticking it in the freezer(*).
• Grab your shaker.
• Squeeze half a lime into the shaker and throw the spent hull in as well.
• Muddle gently, as you do, add a good pinch of (cane) sugar or a splash of simple syrup(**)
• Add a large sprig of spearmint and keep muddling gently, bruising the leaves, not turning them into mush.
• Add 2 oz of good, white rum.
• Add ice cubes.
• Shake vigorously.
• Top with 3 oz of sparkling water.
• Evacuate serving glass from freezer, or dump ice from said glass, strain Mojito into said glass.
• Sip slowly!

* – As regards glassware, I’m sure there’s some sort of convention to this.. Me, I like my Mojito without extra ice, so I use a chilled Martini glass. If you wanna serve it over ice cubes, you’d wanna use a high ball or old-fashioned glass, I guess.

** – Sweeteners in Mojitos is something that’s been discussed for ages and probably will continue to be discussed for ages to come. Simple syrup, white sugar, cane sugar, sweet-n-lo (just kidding there)? Some argue that sugar granuals are needed to draw essential oils from the zest of the lime during muddling, others argue that simple syrup is needed because sugar will not dissolve properly.. I’ve tried both approaches and, in the words os late Clark Gable: “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn!” .. Just do yourself a favor and use cane sugar or similar over the processed white stuff if you chose not to use syrup.. And if you use syrup, use a little less than you would ordinary sugar..

And that’s it, really, you can disregard the nerdy rants on sugars and rums as long as you promise me not to use Bacardi.. Apparently this way, too, you can produce a better Mojito than the bartenders of Bangkok

The Do’s and Dont’s of Mojito making

More great stuff discovered via WWFF who in return copied this list from Tastespotting:

Do use crushed ice in your mojitos. Crushed ice will melt faster, which is a good thing in a drink with such strong flavors. The extra surface area of crushed ice also means a colder drink.

Do not use a pre-made mojito mix out of a bottle. This is one drink you want to do right.

Do use this recipe to make yourself a mojito at home.

Do not over-muddle the mint, or muddle the lime with the ice cubes. These are strictly amateur moves.

Do try Bacardi rum in your mojitos. For many of us, it is the closest thing we can get to real Cuban rum. (Johan’s note: If you like me are not from the US, real Cuban rum is readily available, if you ARE from the US, Ron Matusalem is probably the closest you’ll get to real Cuban Rum)

Do not use dark or gold rum in your mojitos. They can muddy the flavor tremendously.

Do use bottled mineral water in place of seltzer water. Remember, garbage in, garbage out.

Do not order a mojito when there is a line at the bar. Your bartender is probably not going to put a lot of love into it. In fact, you might get just the opposite.

Do order a mojito when the bar is slow. Your bartender will appreciate having an intricate cocktail to make. And if he/she doesn’t? Fuck ‘em.

Do not have ten mojitos tonight. At around 150 calories each, that’s like 1500 calories, there, fatty.

Do order a mojito from a reputable bartender at a reputable bar.

Do not order a mojito at a dance club, sports bar, drink stand, airport bar, OTB saloon, chain restaurant or fraternity house. You’re just going to end up being disappointed.

Do order a mojito on a warm summer evening.

Do not order a mojito when the weather is below 70°F. This is almost as bad as ordering a Bloody Mary after the sun has gone down.

Do slowly sip a mojito and enjoy the way the flavors meld over time.

Do not slurp down a mojito in less time than it took your bartender to make it. You’re probably already on the back burner for ordering it in the first place, and it’s going to be a while before you’re allowed another.

It’s margarita time!

I’m not usually one to pass up on a good deal on spirits, so for those that may care about tequila, Fakta are apparently selling Jose Cuervo Clasico at DKK 69 for 50 CL.

I’m not a big tequila drinker myself, but I do love a good Margarita! Not the stuff you get with those store bought Margarita mixers, no sir.. The classic will do for me:

3 parts of tequila
2 parts of triple sec (Cointreau or Grand Marnier work really well!)

1 part of fresh lime juice
Coarse salt
Lime wedge
Ice cubes

 

1) Moisten the rim of the glass with lime
2) Salt the rim of the glass
3) Fill glass with ice cubes
4) Add the tequila, triple sec and lime juice in an ice-filled shaker.
5) Pour the content into the cocktail glass.
6) Possibly garnish with a slice of lime
7) Drink!

If, like me, you are not super hooked on tequila, I’d suggest toning down the amount to something like equal parts (two, that is) of tequila and triple sec.. Mmm.. Careful, though, these tasty things have fooled me more than once!

White Ladies, the Johan and Christian way!

Okay, so there’s been a lot of talk about gin, drinks and stuff.. So I’ve been trying to dig up a recipe for ye infamous White Lady.. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to come up with something quite matching what Christian and I have grown to love.. So here we go:

1 part Bombay Gin

1 part Cointreau

1 part (freshly squeezed) lemon juice

Stir and strain into cocktail glass.. As with Martinies, shaking this thing would be considered downright rude.. So I’d recommend keeping the bottles in the freezer a couple of hours prior to consumption.

Yum!

Vodka? What is it good for?

Drinking, you might say? But well, yea.. Vodka’s boring, see.. As are mixed drinks, or well, at least they’re starting to appeal less and less to me. So, as a result I’ve had a bottle of Smirnoff laying around since our last trip to Germany where I bought it merely for the sake of the included shaker.

Coincidentally, I’ve also had a beautiful antique Danish glass bottle standing around for years and years, not knowing exactly what I’d be able to use it for.. Consequently, I thought it about time to come up with a use for both of these objects through the ancient Danish art of DIY schnapps and liqueurs:

+ + =

Confused? Okay, here’s the deal: When I was younger my mom used to make her own coffee/orange liqueur and I figured I’d give the drink a modern revival. My mom used to base her drink on schnapps which I was never a big fan of, I did however like the orangy, vanilla, sugary coffee infused flavor of the drink.. So that’s when I got to thinking: Hey, vodka is kinda bland and tasteless, maybe I’ve found my match here! I went and dug up my mom’s old recipe and got cooking.. But of course me being the kinda guy I am, I could never stick to a recipe.

The original recipe calls for a punctured orange and a vanilla pod to be soaked in half a bottle of mild to flavorless schnapps for 40 days along with 40 pieces of cubed sugar and 40 coffee beans. Now orange and vanilla is all good to me, I adore both ingredients. However, the only coffee I have in the shape of whole beans is a potent Kenyan blend, so I opted reduce the number of beans to about 3o, thinking they’d induce about the same amount of flavor if not more.

Also, 40 pieces of cubed sugar seems a ridiculous amount of sugar for half a bottle of spirits.. And me not really being hooked on sugar, I didn’t even own 40 pieces of sugar. The solution came in the shape of taking the 14 pieces of cubed sugar that I did own and double up with equal parts of dark muscovado sugar (which seems to add its own interesting color and flavor to the blend) for a total of “only” 90 grams(!) of sugar to about 35 cl of Smirnoff.

The entire thing has now been combined in a jar and left in a bottom cupboard to sit for at least 40 days.. Gee, patience was never my thing.. The end result should be interesting and if nothing else will probably look all pretty like in the bottle.