Pickling beets again. Been making a large batch every weekend. With prices like this (.36 euro per kilogram = 23 cents/pound) it is easy to indulge. Other root vegetables (carrots, potatoes, onions, leeks) are equally cheap. The produce isn’t uniform in shape and size, not sanitized (they have cleaned carrots next to the lower priced ones that are covered in soil) and aren’t thrown away the moment they start to get soft. There are no “rain machines” to mist them (and the customers) every 30 minutes. I find it rather refreshing.
We have a neighborhood pub, the Guaja, just around the corner from our flat. It is tiny, with a three stool bar, two couches, some low coffee tables, two or three chairs and a window ledge area with three stools that can comfortably fit two. With shelves filled with books, and a chess set and adorned with amateur art and photos, it feels like someone’s living room filled with funky old stuff that is a great place to hang out.
The owner plays lps from her collection – we’ve heard a fair about of 60’s – 70’s rock, some reggae, and a bit of classical. When the Grateful Dead came on we were reminded of our fantastic neighbors; Jim, Gail and James Price. Last night the Woodstock soundtrack was played and we decided that we should pick up a CD – a short trip to Amazon.com shows that there are many, many, many different Woodstock collections that are no available – Gil Scott Heron said that the revolution will not be televised, he didn’t say anything about it being repackaged for commodification. A couple of weeks ago she played a side from the Emerson Lake and Palmer live set and I was very happy to realize that there was some pretty good musicianship from a band I was rather taken with in my teen years, not just the bloated, pretentious prog-rock that I shamefully noted was a guilty pleasure of my youth.
The pub only has three taps. Happily two of them are Brengulu beers. Jo prefers the Gaišais, I like the Tumšais better, though we both will take sips from each other’s mugs. They each remind me a little of Belgiums – the Gaišais has a hint of a Witbier while the Tumšais has a slight sour flavoring. When we were first shown the pub by Kryzstof he said it was a place for “alternative people”. Not knowing what he meant I mistakenly concluded that “alternative people” was his code for gay. Jo noted last night while we were people watching out the window as we enjoyed our Brengulu alus that we have not noted any indication at all that there is a gay culture here. Even in our dance classes, heteronormative gender roles are adhered to rather strictly. We also have not really found any sort of art culture that is bohemian. Rather, fashion is king (or queen, depending upon one’s gender). Took advantage of rather pleasant Saturday afternoon for a stroll through Mežaparks. All the ice had melted on the lake, the grass and moss are greening and buds are gathering for their Spring explosion. There were many more people throughout the park. Noted women not dressed for hiking but with short, clingy dresses, high heels and short fur. Laughed out loud when I saw one woman wearing an elegant fur version of the fleece vests we wear camping. Yes, fashion is queen here.
We have a neighborhood pub, the Guaja, just around the corner from our flat. It is tiny, with a three stool bar, two couches, some low coffee tables, two or three chairs and a window ledge area with three stools that can comfortably fit two. With shelves filled with books, and a chess set and adorned with amateur art and photos, it feels like someone’s living room filled with funky old stuff that is a great place to hang out.
The owner plays lps from her collection – we’ve heard a fair about of 60’s – 70’s rock, some reggae, and a bit of classical. When the Grateful Dead came on we were reminded of our fantastic neighbors; Jim, Gail and James Price. Last night the Woodstock soundtrack was played and we decided that we should pick up a CD – a short trip to Amazon.com shows that there are many, many, many different Woodstock collections that are no available – Gil Scott Heron said that the revolution will not be televised, he didn’t say anything about it being repackaged for commodification. A couple of weeks ago she played a side from the Emerson Lake and Palmer live set and I was very happy to realize that there was some pretty good musicianship from a band I was rather taken with in my teen years, not just the bloated, pretentious prog-rock that I shamefully noted was a guilty pleasure of my youth.
The pub only has three taps. Happily two of them are Brengulu beers. Jo prefers the Gaišais, I like the Tumšais better, though we both will take sips from each other’s mugs. They each remind me a little of Belgiums – the Gaišais has a hint of a Witbier while the Tumšais has a slight sour flavoring. When we were first shown the pub by Kryzstof he said it was a place for “alternative people”. Not knowing what he meant I mistakenly concluded that “alternative people” was his code for gay. Jo noted last night while we were people watching out the window as we enjoyed our Brengulu alus that we have not noted any indication at all that there is a gay culture here. Even in our dance classes, heteronormative gender roles are adhered to rather strictly. We also have not really found any sort of art culture that is bohemian. Rather, fashion is king (or queen, depending upon one’s gender). Took advantage of rather pleasant Saturday afternoon for a stroll through Mežaparks. All the ice had melted on the lake, the grass and moss are greening and buds are gathering for their Spring explosion. There were many more people throughout the park. Noted women not dressed for hiking but with short, clingy dresses, high heels and short fur. Laughed out loud when I saw one woman wearing an elegant fur version of the fleece vests we wear camping. Yes, fashion is queen here.