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The Cook Gascon

nothing Gascon.

Dedicated to Prince Dombes, that is to say Louis-Auguste of Bourbon (1701-1755), natural descendant of Louis XIV, the book: The Cook Gascon of 1740 is traditionally attributed to Louis-Auguste de Bourbon itself.

Ideas for Christmas Eve and other revenue:

Soup wooden leg, Bignet bacchanalian, chopped eggs without malice, Sun Eggs, Artichokes convict, look at the new chickens, villains or lump in Bats in Panties, Veal rolled donkey dung to Neuteau, all accompanied by sauce green monkey, the fad, blue sky, the poor man or lady ...

The Cook Gascon - In Amsterdam - 1740

Nevertheless, a recipe from Gascony

The Soup Garbure

You fuer Beef, Veal, Lamb, how a ham; being Fues, you wet large stock, and potted in a pot well skimmed; afterwards you put all sorts of vegetables like cabbage, Panetta, carrots, turnips, crack, leeks, onions, root perfil, a bunch of ofeille, a handful of peas fecs, good mignonette, three Gouffe garlic affaifonez tasteful, bacon, a sausage increased; you put two of his thigh, marinated Oyes, you blanch a hen; being done in good taste, you have bread of sliced rye in your dish you concoct in good taste, you will arrange the thigh of Geese & vegetables in turn, with sausage & bacon, & ufe. Blanched vegetables, broth thereupon.

(copious!, Then we can sing: thank you little Jesus, my skin taut belly ...)

the two slots forty eight Refet ifi .

A Gascon, d'Artagnan, who certainly loved the soup

Monument to Alexandre Dumas - Paris

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L tree who drinks wine

tree who drinks wine likes to sleep

in his shadow

such as deer and rabbits fed

thyme and cucumber

tree who drinks wine

is a famous fellow

good for the evening and morning

and every day cavalcade

Trees wine (this is me saying)
(a corner of my briefcase table)
Fabrics Moutet - Orthez - Ortes

tree who drinks wine

this morning told us

No need to be soothsayer

not daily Tuesday

tree who drinks wine

The whole world pays the

He's not stupid he's smart

and its shadow will be the last

And his shadow will be the last

on earth if there is still

and the sea and land

at time of last dawn.

Robert Desnos

The Parterre Hyacinthe

Would Twisted Bowel Cause Pain

The mystery of the pyramid

Pyramids of Giza

(126 ) Cheops came, they say, to so much infamy and short of money he placed his daughter in a place of debauchery and ordered him to earn a specified amount (how much? is a point that I have not been specified). The girl obeyed his father, but she also wanted to leave a monument to his name and asked each visitor to make him a present of a stone. With these stones, I t-told, it was built three pyramids located at the center of the group in front of the Great Pyramid, which has a plethra and a half later.

Herodotus - The Survey, II

[a pretty hocus-pocus]

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The bad habit of being self

Another book by Martin Page ... A collection of short stories, this time, where we meet a man who, tired of him, no longer wants to lose the bad habit of being oneself or another who turns out to be an endangered species disappearance last homo sapiens insularis or another who wanted to make life safer considering it, otherwise, an attempted murder.

A panel of strange birds against the current to be enjoyed like a box of chocolates.

Martin Page - The bad habit of being self - Editions de l'Olivier, Nov. 2010.

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The small lumps illustrated


If you also want to laugh at you piss while reading the adventures of the lump, her mother's apprentice and Fluffy Cat in Grumeauland, I recommend reading this book hilarious.

And after that, you get over a layer on the blog at the origin: A Little Grumeautique .

And after that you go to bed smiling (e) relaxed and (e) ... if you come to stop you!

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The jase jay

Albrecht Dürer - 1512 - blue jay wing
Il aussi
cacarde, cageole or cajole, cocarde, Frigotto, frigulote, fringole, gajole ...

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His Life, Work

"The personality of the people has nothing to do with writing. Things must be distinguished completely. When you read a book by a certain author, why is it going to know his life? (...) The work is one thing that remains. If we take the bastards of literature and painting, we are left with nothing. If you take the drunken, one gets zero. If we leave only books made by people who behaved well, and treated his wife were good friends and paid the bills on time, we were only with shit. "

Miguel Esteves Cardoso

Louis-Ferdinand Celine

"The personality of the author has nothing to do with his writing. We must completely separate the two. If you read a book by a particular author, why interest in his life? (...) The work continues. If you took out all the son of a bitch of literature and painting, there would be anyone. If you took away the drunks, nothing would remain. If you left us with books in good health, treating their wives well, good friends and paying their debts in time, it would leave us with that crap. "
Miguel Esteves Cardoso

Translated from the Portuguese (with ladle)

Max von Sydow embodying Knut Hamsun

That's true. Even I am wondering for years why is intrinsically left (duck confit) and atheist (Perfume bergamot), writers who left me on the ass, veered to the extreme right: Louis-Ferdinand Celine ( Death on) the traveler Sigmaringen ( said yet in I do not know what madness rabâcheur pamphleteer and that below the Loire, we are all wogs but the nigger that I piss him skate at the right aryien) , Knut Hamsun ( Hunger ), who shot comptenteur the Nazi regime, or are very Catholic right as Dino Buzzati ( Desert Tartar ).

Dino Buzzati con il suo bulldog Napoleone

Collezione privata

Ouarf! Ouarff!

Heavy Long Distance Runneing Shoe

Error [Impromptus]

The mistake was to believe it would be easy. Believing that I would know how the skills they need at the best time for everything follows simply, logically, almost without noise. Believing in frozen images of happiness. But it was a bit forgotten quickly that it is not me that is new to life when I've already proven, that his skin is as smooth as mine was wrinkled, he learned to speak when I 'I learned to gag ...

So I made the mistake of believing that I could do it naturally, without thinking. Dare I say that I made the mistake of thinking that I would know how "primitive"? I dare. But, no. Finally, it is not known. One never knows, does not it? Because every day is new and requires to reinvent itself. Even invent itself. Because he does not speak and I do not understand. I look and feel useless performs certain actions without being sure they are fair, and crying, back alone on all this guilt that never leaves me.

I made this mistake. I never thought it would be so hard being a mother.

An error ... so sweet Because I'm finally mother.

---

For Impromptus on the theme of the week: find the error.

Drivere Sd Card Dell Inspirion 1525

Amazement (and tremors?)

Suddenly, nothing. Panic seized me. Missing, for any curse, a dark magic that kept them away from me.

They were lost, where would I know one day?

Lost, confused, despair in me was king.

Slowly, I started on my grief. Nothing without them, would not be possible and it would take time for my life to resume its normal course.

They assailed my memory, and I saw them again, so close to me, if present every day with my being. But now, where were they? ..

Under the sheet I just asked? Ah, maybe. Ah, yes. Ok, I'm back at DM math.

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The rillettes Proust and other literary fantasies

From literary and funny in a small (100 pages) book wacky but welcome. Teach him how to become a "Grantécrivain" over the tip sheets able to help you find ideas and develop them.

It also tells you how to look for inspiration, choosing his words, to avoid confusion, duplication or adverbs, punctuation control. Anything goes, with examples drawn from classical literature (even dent some authors ...).

And no need to make bread, it has to rest to digest! :)

And it should read, just for the rewriting of synonyms Chanson d'Automne Verlaine ...

The whining oblong
The fiddle
From the back end
Contusionnent my heart muscle
On stress
Uniform.

...

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Little Trees

for the coldest

Meret Oppenheim - Breakfast in Fur - 1936

Sparkling Water Helps Upset Tummy

and day for them will be like night

hundred and twenty four pages beautifully written featuring a family to cope with the suicide of the son of 20 years.

A common story told here with chiseled sentences consisting of words chosen, thus avoiding falling into pathos. True success.

"Seeing my friends Denise, she can not help thinking: they end their studies, make love, find jobs, have children, grandchildren. They will have the picture of life When Denis hand with the sketch. "

Ariane Wood - and day for them will be like night . Ramsay literatures, January 2009.

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Hurricane

more he wrote, the more I like this author.

On the advice of a friend, I first read The sun Scorta and I liked it but even Goncourt while he was, he did not left an indelible (désolée. ..).

know I have read The door of hell because I have in my library and because - Wow! - This book was impressive: a writing rooted in reality to a story of more spooky.

And here, finally, the last: Hurricane . The story takes place in New Orleans during Hurricane Katrina. Mingle on the scene various characters who, faced with this event, react (or not ...) in their own way. What have I

do with my life? Will we survive? And if I survive, what would I do? Will I survive, anyway?

This author has a monstrous writing talent for describing places and people in their deepest darkness; talent that should not pass under any circumstances!

Laurent Gaude. - Hurricane . Actes Sud, August 2010.

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New York Fantasy

first novel of its author, New York Fantasy is a book about the trip. Travel between Paris and New York, New York travel and travel within the same narrator.

New York seems to be as I imagined: halftone, illuminated, hyperactive, bearer of dreams and yet almost already obsolete. As if the city was synonymous with melancholy, nostalgia.

" New York was the place where people came not to live or to realize their dreams but to invent the dreams they had not. "

He also talked about Leonard Cohen, I do not know. But he speaks so I've a good mind to find out ... I note on my list of things to do.

My love I waited
waited day and night
I did not see the time passing
so I threw half of my life.
There were lots of invitations
and I know that thou hast sent
but waited
a miracle happens ...

A book on art and writing that raises questions or more answers.

" According to him, there was a price to pay tribute to the art. There was no art without sacrifice. "
"For write, he must make a sacrifice. Be prepared to sacrifice his happiness. "

A book on the path to self, which thus brings us back to self ... se!

" And then there was this phrase taken from one of Kerouac's early writings, saying that inevitably ended up going home and what to retain in the final was number of laps that were completed between the time of his departure to the scheduled return. "

All backed by a very beautiful language used and the characters colorful. The kind of book that I would commit ...

JACQUEMOND Olivier. - New York Fantasy . - Mercure de France, May 2009.

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Freestyle

What better for a pregnant woman to the concentration focused elsewhere (kind of far from it) a little Bede very nice to be entertained! And here is the choice made during my last visit to the library in my town: Freestyle.

A story in search of salmon rock salmon, freedom, too. Meetings, links are created, discoveries good and bad ... A life through experience and a conclusion far from fish tail (ah ah): what are we and what would the world be without our "Family"?

A small delight, also not without humor. A taste without sushi ... Okay, I go out:)

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must, you breathe ...

35th Bithday Invitation

This uncertainty, which floats. Clinging to each droplet as the clouds let out. Emanating from all sides, and combines all the colors. Who grabbed my coat hooks, my soul.

New Born Baby With Mucus Wee

Dragonfly his eight years


If I have not found the going to write, at least I found the love of reading. And thanks to Martin Page and his Dragonfly that allow me to confirm and my passion for this author.

Dragonfly his eight years * no way inferior to his other books. There is still much poetry

" On 18 December at seventeen hours and thirteen minutes, the sun had not appeared yet, but time did not remain inactive. It was raining since the beginning of the day, since the dew, it rained on the streets and damaged gray, the gray roofs, green and looked and it was raining on gray hair, sparse, brown, long, short of passers on the umbrellas , the roofs of cars and helmets for motorcyclists, it rained on pigeons flying in and bums asleep on the newspapers that exceeded kiosks, in the neck of workers pressed on the windows glasses, binders schoolchildren. "

cynicism:

" The company is pretty well done for people who have everything already. "

and black humor:

" Since she left her modeling, she devoted her time and fortune to the crusades against things that the nerves. That is to say almost everything. well, if she could not bear the cars, she did not more environmentalists, and had therefore developed a bicycle pollutant. It was a simple black Dutch bike, frame up, which she grafted a small diesel engine that did not cause the wheels, its sole function was to produce a thick smoke and nauseous. "

A pure pleasure to read and highlight, reread and savored. Happiness in a rectangle of paper, to caress the eyes again and again.


(*) PAGE Martin The dragonfly its eight years. I Lu, July 2004.

Cluster Of Blisters On Hip

Night falls accordion death leaves his solitude, breathing his last chorus, as a reminder to the living, who do not listen.

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Shhh ...