One-year-old house

Yes, as of 10am tomorrow morning, the House of Fortune will have been up and running for a whole year, by far the longest I've ever kept to one writing project. A good reason to celebrate. As my blog is a product of my Denmark experience, here is its Danish birthday cake, marked with a liberal presence of Danebrog (the Danish flag, traditional marker of birthdays and other festive events). Please help yourself to a slice.

My life as a smørrebrødsjomfru

Beautiful homemade smørrebrød
I'm done with work until the end of August, and heavily into preparations for my first journey, to spend a month in Lisbon. While there I will be staying with and seeing old friends. Of course, I would like to share my new culture with my old friends. And by culture, I mean food. I will therefore spend my first nights in Lisbon preparing that most portable of Danish foods, smørrebrød.

So, I have had my first experience as a smørrebrødsjomfru - literally, a spread (smørre) bread (brød) maiden (jomfru), which is the title given to the young ladies who make the smørrebrød in restaurants and cafés. Thor was my instructor; for each type of smørrebrød, he made a model, and then I made one following his example.

Me making dyrelægens natmad, a blurry but historic event
Smørrebrød is basically open-faced sandwiches, but much, much more. It's not complicated to make, but it's an art, all about the order of eating (first the fish, then the meat, then sometimes the cheese, though we skipped the cheese this time), which condiments go with which pålæg (toppings)...and presentation is everything.

It always starts with the bread, a Danish rye bread (rugbrød), covered with a not-skimpy layer of butter. The pålæg is put on top of this, and then this is pyntede (decorated) with the appropriate condiments. It is important that the bread be covered by the toppings: the bread is merely a carrier for the other stuff.

We made the following four classic smørrebrød varieties (presented in the order of preparation and also the order of eating):

1) Pålæg: a strip or two of white pickled herring (hvidsild). This is a very sweet herring. It is garnished with capers, diced onions, and dill.

White herring; the red was the same, except for the color and the dill.
2) Pålæg: a strip or two of red spiced pickled herring (krydderisild). This is a stronger herring. It is garnished with capers and onions, but no dill.

3) Dyrelægens Natmad: literally translated as 'the veterinarian's midnight snack', one of the most famous varieties. The first topping is leverpostej, a roughly ground liver paté. Then comes a big slice of sky (pronounced sort of like 'skoo'...but not quite). Sky is 'aspic' in English, a sort of gelatinized boullion. On top of that is a slice of 'saltkød' (literally, 'saltmeat'), which I've seen translated as corned beef, but it isn't. There is often a ring or two of raw onion as well, but I decided there was enough raw onion with the herring.

The sky should be hidden under the meat, but I wanted you to see it.
4) Pålæg: roast beef. This is covered with a line of remoulade, a section of grated dried onions, and a sprinkling of grated horseradish (in Danish, peberrod, or 'pepper root') to give it a bit of a kick.

Yum!
Several of these ingredients are sort of acquired tastes...like the herring and the Danish bread. So, let's cross our fingers that my friends like it! If they don't, they'll at least get to wash it all down with Akvavit and Danish beer. Akvavit, (or snaps can be served instead), is specifically to accompany the fish, though people tend to keep drinking it with the other courses. Beer is, of course, meant to accompany pretty much anything in the Danish kitchen.

What to do when there's nothing to do

In my life's patterns of overwork/underwork, I've gone into a small underwork period. My project oral exam is done (if you'd like to know how it went, the code is 11, and your magic decoder ring is here), and I have a total of one more day of work, and that only in the morning, before I start my summer travels next Friday. So I have basically a week to do what I'd like, and to get things done.

So what have I done? Not nearly as much as I could. I've watched a lot of football. I've done some cross-stitching. I've made a commitment I will most likely not keep, to clean and cook a bit more...I'm terribly undomesticated, which isn't really fair on Thor when he's working and I'm not. I've tried to read a whole book, but I seem to have forgotten how. I've met people for coffee.

So what am I missing? What would you do if you had a week to hang around at home? And is there a secret to being extra domesticated, some little trick I could apply to the apartment which might help my hopelessly tarnished reputation as a housekeeper? Anything which could give me domestic street cred, and/or would make the apartment look that much nicer, would be greatly appreciated.

Happy Dad's Day!

Well, I would have sent my Dad to the seaside, like I did with my Mom for Mom's Day...but he wanted to see the World Cup first. This is him during yesterday's amazing US-Italy red-card fest game.

Click here to South Park your Dad!

5 Philosophical Choices

I asked Simple American to ask me some questions, and he came up with some good ones. And tough ones. I'm a bit scared of these questions to tell the truth. But I've done my best.

1. Your life ends suddenly. St. Peter greets you and realizes your demise was an error. To make up for it you are allowed to assume any life in the world. Who is your choice and explain why him or her?

But what about the person whose life I assume? Why would I want to take someone else's life just because of someone else's error? In fact, maybe that's why I ended up in this situation, though I can't imagine that someone would choose my life if given this choice. I could say I'd become someone who is truly evil and who has harmed many people, so that I could change their actions, but I don't know if it would work; I have the idea that much evil and cruelty is done by committee. Or I could become a sublimely talented working writer or photographer, but then the writing or photography would go with them. No, there's nothing for it, I'd just have to be myself again. If the powers that be could give me someone else's life, then they can give me my own back as well.

2. The mail comes and you recieve an envelope that allows you to take a round trip flight to anyplace in the world. Where do you go?

There are so many places that could be here. But the element of surprise is missing. So, I'd start by getting a good atlas. I'd look through the atlas, and make a numbered list of all the places I'd most like to go to. It would include Antarctica, various places in China, India, and Brazil, the Inca Trail, Mozambique, Tahiti, the Galapagos...and potentially many more. I'd focus on the far away places that I'm less likely to get to. Then I'd put numbers in a hat, and draw one. The place listed with that number is where I'd go.

3. You are given a remote control like Adam Sandler in "Click". This lets you go anywhere in your past and future and change one thing. You have one use of the device. How do you use it?

Now I've seen how this works in films, and it isn't pretty. So, I honestly don't think I'd use it. I like where my life has gone, and I presume that I'll feel this way also in the future. But if I must, purely for the sake of argument...I really can't think of anything. Maybe I'd go back to when I was a teenager, but just to see what I was like, not to change anything. It's like looking at old journals...I feel very indulgent of the young me.

4. Fate has decided you will be a heroine and that your efforts can save millions of lives. You are allowed to take along one person to guard your back. Who do you choose? You may select fictional heroes from literature, mythology, and film as well as historical persons.

Well, this depends on how I will be saving these lives. I can't see myself in an action hero mode, so I must be saving them through ingenuity and creativity, with a smidgeon of chutzpah. However, I would like someone who is more scientific and more able to deal with complicated mechanical problems. I'd therefore chose Richard Feynman. I suspect I'd find him annoying, and in between solving problems, I'd have to keep him from chasing all the enemy women, and alerting the opposition to our presence by loud bongo playing...but he could pick the locks, and provide a focused approach allowing us to find deceptively easy solutions to difficult problems.

5. There is a path you can find and it forks three ways. One way leads to never ending love with the perfect person for you. The next leads to a cure for cancer. The last path provides a means to end starvation. The earth starts to shake and you realize that you can only take one path. You must take a path or you will die here. The reality sets in that these paths will never be found in your life time. Which path do you choose?

Well, I would certainly not go for neverending love. I have learned and grown from all the ending loves that I have had, and am happy for the love that I currently have. When I consider the other choices, I find myself becoming very, very over-rational. I find myself thinking that the problem with both of these is that the solution would lead to a worsening of other problems brought about by over-population. So, why choose either? But that's just cynical. So, I'd chose the path to end starvation...which could be through dealing with population issues. If it's solely about addressing inequality in distribution of resources, I'm fine with that, too.

O.K., if you'd like to join in and get your own philosophical questions, here are the rules...

The Official Interview Game Rules (copied to be passed on)

1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below saying “interview me.”
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person’s will be different.
3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Obligatory VM Post: Where I show a lack of knowledge and a surplus of opinions

Just some thoughts on the running thread in my life at the moment, VM...Verdens Mesterskab, better known in English speaking places as the World Cup.

Part of the cover story in today's Metro Xpress (one of two free morning papers) on Portugal's victory yesterday over Angola (inexpertly translated by me): Portugal have been named among the favorites to win the Cup. Yesterday the Southern Europeans also won their first match in the tournament 1-0 over Angola, but without maintaining a same high level of play throughout the 90 minutes. Pauleta scored the only goal of the match with assistance from the 33-year old Figo, who at times played as if he was young again.

My first question, and I don't ask this sarcastically, I really want to know, is: when is a player seen as so old that, when he plays well, it's like returning to youth? Figo has been past that point for a while, as far as I can tell. After all, isn't Pauleta also 33? Yet I never hear him being referred to in those ageist terms. Is it just that Figo has been in the public eye for longer and so seems somehow older?

My second question, and I'm not being sarcastic here, either, much: why is a lackluster, but winning, first game in the qualifying rounds so bad? Would it be better if Portugal had ripped Angola to shreds, but were as a result much more tired, so that they ended up losing a later game because of that? Would the fans be happier? I have the same question about the England-Paraguay game. Isn't it better to save the sexy action football for the knockout rounds where it counts?

And, in the interests of journalistic fairness, the other free morning paper, Urban, today had an interesting look at why women like football, from a columnist named Marie Østerbye (translation also mine, also inexpert): What is there not to like? Truly well-conditioned men, drama, sweat, exciting tricks with a ball, and not least, mean who show FEELINGS.... Here are men who writhe in pain. Who celebrate their happiness or scream with rage. And who will sometimes even CRY. Yes, there you have it. A rationalization for diving. Is it to get your opponent a yellow card? No, it's to pull chicks.

Eventually, we all become our parents

Or our grandparents, as the case may be. Comment given today, as Thor and I walked out from the train station. Directly in front of us, two pre-pubescent girls wearing tiny tank tops and very, very, very tight jeans.

Thor: Oh, those girls. Look at them, they are too poor to afford pants that fit. They've almost grown out of them. Maybe we should tell them where to find a used clothing store so that they can buy new ones.

He has also been known to comment about the clothing choices of teenage skateboard punks...'Oh, look. They're so poor, they have to wear their older brothers' pants. They're almost falling off.' Or anyone wearing clothing with fashionable holes in them.

Yes, it's true, my boyfriend is an 87-year old man trapped in a 32-year old man's body. The horror. The horror.

How to deal with difficult questions

Thor's Dad once signed himself up for ten lessons of Italian cooking. At the first lesson, a very well-presented woman (WPW) started talking to him, and pointing out others in the class whom she already knew, presenting them by title...

WPW (in a conspiratorial whisper): That man over there is the director of (blah blah) and the man in the blue shirt is vice-president of (blah blah)...

Thor's Dad could see where this was going, that sooner or later she would want to hear all about his status level, which made him (egalitarian Dane to the core) a bit uncomfortable. Eventually it happened:

WPW: And, what do you do?

Thor's Dad: I own a small business in Buenos Aires.

WPW (looking impressed): Oh! What kind of business is it?

Thor's Dad: Well, we have 30 or 40 young girls....

At this point, the well-presented woman became very alarmed, and changed the subject. Thor's Dad decided to forego the rest of the cooking lessons, as the clientele was clearly several notches above what he was into.

In the interest of avoiding any libel charges, I must inform you that Thor's Dad works in some sort of management position in one of Denmark's largest companies. As far as I know, he does not actually own any brothels, in Argentina or elsewhere. Furthermore, he is an excellent cook.

Springtime in Denmark

The most beautiful things never photograph. But that doesn't stop me from trying. Happy June!