Leaves, leaves, more of those f---king leaves

What can I say that will not make you think that I have gone - completely - crazy... This is the second post devoted to the dreaded leaves that are taking over my part of London and making life difficult, especially for the people who are assigned to sweep them up, a Sisyphean task at this time of year.

And they are everywhere, these leaves, covering pavements and creating a slippery surface for walkers and joggers, especially on a damp day. They also like to coat railway lines so that our trains, obviously unused to this annual phenomenon, encounter the wrong leaves and are thus unable to function properly, creating railway chaos. These sinister little leaves (or, occasionally, big) are everywhere, trying to disrupt modern life as we know it, suggesting an evil plan of some description by the forces that run our Universe, our lives, everything.

These same forces now cunningly conspire to make our evenings darker by changing our clocks back to GMT so that we are less able to spot the lurking leaves waiting to catch us out. As you slither your way home from the tube or train (you'll be lucky, ha-ha) tonight try and tell yourself that this all happens by accident and not design, when the evil hand is so obvious everywhere. Why do you think leaves fall now when it gets darker and not in the summer when they would stay dry and could be seen? Yeah, just nature being nature, right!

Well, your 'nature', not content with sending us the leaves to mess up our lives is now turning the screws by making the weather colder as well, forcing us to wear layers of clothing to keep our body temperatures at remotely acceptable levels. Not only do our trains not run properly and we have to slip and slide everywhere, giving a good impression of hopelessly incompetent ice-skaters, but we are now made to freeze our whatsits (sexual equality, don't you know) off trying to do so... Still think this is innocent?

No, my friends, it's time to wake up and accept the facts: There are strange, I would even say dark, powers controlling our world, taking great pleasure from our discomfort! Next time you slip on some wet leaves listen carefully, for you may hear them sniggering in the background. Next time your train is cancelled due to 'the wrong kind of leaves on the line' listen just after the announcement; they might even be laughing out loud.

The sinister leaves that are everywhere at the moment are damning evidence of a gigantic conspiracy to make us suffer, it seems. Yet some fools will insist on writing optimistically about Autumn, Winter and the charm of the changing of the seasons...

Timing is everything!

One of the few things in life practically true without exception is that timing is everything, whether in business, love or life in general - getting the timing right makes all the difference.

The case is firmly established in business and otherwise; all you have to do is look at a few almost random examples:

1. The oil trader in the 1970s who had a ship load of oil (2,000,000 barrels) just launched on the high seas when of the two major crises struck and was offered $2/barrel premium within two days, but turned it down. After just over two weeks he was offered $20/barrel, sold and became a legend (and immensely wealthy) because oil prices continued to rise quickly. Yet if the crisis had been resolved the price would have fallen and he would have possibly even sustained a loss, forsaking the opportunity to make a quick 4 million dollars... Timing!
2. The travel agency launched a short time before the 9/11 events unfolded, shocking the world and putting a break on travelling to and from the USA for a while - they were out of business within less than a year, having done nothing wrong... Timing!
3. A project to build a grand hotel and spa facility in Central Greece of a standard to rival Baden Baden, several years in the planning and making, which was completed just on the eve of the 2nd World War and never opened. The original buildings are now wrecked but can still be viewed within the grounds of the since rebuilt spa and adjoining modern hotel... Timing!
4. Meeting one of the finest women of one's life at 19, when you are just in the middle of learning about the world and exploring yourself and sex, when settling down to a monogamous existence represents an unthinkable sacrifice, so you pass and have never married... Timing!
5. Relaxing too soon and losing concentration coming out of the final corner while leading a motorsport race, within site of the chequered flag because you think "I've won", missing a gear change and nearly blowing not only your engine but the race... Timing!
6. You're walking down the street and a few seconds after you have passed under a balcony a heavy chunk of masonry falls and shatters on the pavement... Timing!

I can go on and on and on, for there are countless examples, many of which are well-known. When (the timing, the timing) you say or do things is incredibly important; you need to think about it carefully and try to plan as meticulously as possible. Much in the same way that in retail they say that the three main ingredients are location, location and location, timing is the unseen and often unconsidered factor which can change everything.

In the late 1970s and early eighties IBM was one of the most powerful companies in the world, virtually controlling the computer market through its dominant position in mainframes. When it entered personal computing the machines using the system it championed but made by other manufacturers were called IBM-compatible and were expected to dominate; today the mainframe market has all but disappeared, IBM does not make personal computers and is mainly a software company. While still relatively important it is no longer considered the 'barometer of the stock market' and others are making the running concerning the future of computing. All this came about because it failed to realise that importance was shifting from hardware to software and did not impose limitations on Microsoft when it commissioned and paid for MS-DOS. A few years earlier when mainframe computers ruled the roost that may not have mattered, but it did then... Timing!

The saddest but most significant part of all this is that the main factor in getting the timing absolutely spot-on is luck! We have no certain way of knowing what may happen next, even if we consider all the factors involved, no way at all. Even the oracle at Delphi, clever though it undoubtedly was, would have a tough time predicting the future, the prophets of this or that religion also... We only have to look at the considered predictions of the sixties and seventies describing the future in the year 2000, the little fish-bowl helmets we were all meant to have been wearing by now, riding across the sky on our flying scooters... ha!

And no, chummies, this does not mean that we can sit on our fat (or skinny, makes no difference) backsides and expect luck to do our work for us.

Value for Money (VfM), a most useful concept

It seems a simple enough concept to master: is whatever it is we are purchasing (a good or a service, it matters not) worth the amount of money we are being asked to part with? If it is then it represents VfM, even good/great VfM, if not then we must decide whether we want it sufficiently to ignore this or if we should just walk away.

Yet so many of us are confused about VfM because we are conditioned to think cheap or expensive, forgetting that these are comparative terms and not simple labels - something is cheap or expensive relative to another comparable item and this should not be considered in isolation. Cheap/expensive relative to what? Are the items compared sufficiently similar? Do they both offer what we need from them? Are the circumstances of their availability sufficiently similar? Unless they are, the terms cheap or expensive are invalid, unrealistic and very poor guides indeed to purchasing.

Everything we decide to acquire should be judged for VfM irrespective of whether it is an everyday item or a luxury, whether a kebab or a fillet steak; there are differences in quality in everything which may justify a higher price for a seemingly similar object, if only considered carefully enough. Look carefully, think, then decide with your eyes open and do not be ignorant - weigh up your alternatives and make decisions according to what is most important to you.

Of course there are bargains to be found in this world if you look carefully and are prepared to wait, prepared to shop around but also to be disappointed occasionally should you miss out. Bargains are an extreme manifestation of VfM and do not occur every day or in every field of activity or line of goods. They should be snapped up when found if they fulfil our criteria, but should not form the basis for other comparisons as they are, after all, bargains and by definition fleeting.

Boys and girls wake up, look at things around you, consider them, realise that they are not all the same, not all equal, not all worth the same - please! Not all pieces of meat are the same, not all jars of honey are the same, not all bottle of wines are the same - judge them for what they are, what they give you and not what the seller wants for them or what they want you to believe about them; ascribe to everything a value for money (VfM), even if it is personal to you and not universally applicable.

And let us not forget the other important factors that should govern our purchasing decisions and form part of the VfM equation, even if they are not part of the specific value calculation:

1. Have we any real need/use for the item/service in question or are we simply considering a purchase based on how attractive its VfM seems?

2. Can we really afford the item/service in question irrespective of how attractive a proposition it may be?

Once we have evaluated, cogitated and considered carefully the above, with Value for Money as our guide we can never go too far wrong - VfM will never fail you! Try it...

Autumn

The pavements in my part of London are full of fallen leaves, dry and crumbling; this more than anything shows me that summer is well and truly gone and Autumn is here to stay. And - don't say it - it will soon be Christmas!

Funny enough, as you'll see from the photographs, the trees themselves are still in denial, clinging on to their green cover in a rather desperate repudiation of reality. In this they remind me of the human beings who pretend to be young when they, not unlike me, are in the autumn of their lives; how pathetic we can appear as we try to maintain the pretence of youth! Autumn - and the ensuing Winter - are inevitable, indeed vital, to life and all that surround it. This is not on an individual level, for obviously some living things will disappear forever, but concerns life as a whole, the full cycle thereof.

Nature is incredibly beautiful, though it can often be harsh and extreme throughout its cycles, anywhere in the world. Britain, with its relatively mild climate sees wonderful changes of colour but maintains a fundamental consistency - nature alters slowly and sensitively, generally avoiding extremes. But change it does, with the natural cycle occasionally gentle, occasionally aggressive, ever-changing. Take the time to observe, for it is fascinating and extends to all species - it's just that some have shorter, some longer cycles.

Human beings are fortunate to have a relatively long life cycle, with our earthly presence extended to exceed seventy years under normal circumstances and despite our best efforts. In fact, as living conditions improve, human life expectancy grows and exceeding eighty is a fairly normal event; what is not clear is how our extended life cycle affects the cycles of everything else around us.

Autumn is beautiful, if somewhat sad, extravagantly shedding the panoply of summer to arrive at the bareness of Winter with nature in retreat, asleep, recovering and preparing for the rebirth (a reawakening, actually) of Spring. I enjoy everything about it, the colours, the mess (of course I have no tidying up of the loose leaves to do, I live in a flat!), the winding down in preparation. The cold weather heralded brings a reinvigoration of the survival instinct to humans after the sloth of summer, and we have to fight harder for our existence - no, I don't mean the Christmas festivities... - so we batten down the hatches. And before we know it the cold begins to soften, buds start appearing, Winter gives way to Spring and the natural cycle of life begins again, delicate, fragile and exquisite.

For those of you looking for religious parallels in the scribblings of an irreligious person please note that the natural cycles are of slumber and reawakening, not death and rebirth; the first is part of the natural order of things, the second a concept (to my mind philosophical) as yet unproven in any way shape or form. Believe, if you must, but enjoy and understand life around you anyway.

Oooops! I can't please everyone...

My latest post has raised a few eyebrows and spawned a few comments, not least from the chef in question, who was not best pleased when I said that her dishes did not major on being 'art on a plate' but rather at being delicious to eat. She took it as criticism of the way her food looked on a plate and sent me this photograph of the scallop dish I had on Saturday before my cutlery dismantled it and left
it looking less elegant. My poor photograph showed one bedraggled scallop left on a well-appreciated plate waiting like its siblings to be devoured by greedy old me; to me it looked the way wonderful food is supposed to look. I do, of course, accept that the untouched plate looks beautiful but to my silly mind it still looks like 'real' food waiting to be enjoyed and not what I consider the beautiful but pointless 'art on a plate' dishes.

My posts are not written to please anyone but myself, I hasten to add, though I'm delighted if you find them interesting. If I praise/criticise someone or something it isn't to anyone's specification and, of course, they - and you - are entitled to disagree and debate. What you are most certainly not entitled to do is to expect me to write what you want the way that you want it - please do not hold your breath because that is never going to happen!

The wonderful chef is not alone in correcting me. Here is a short list:

1. Merv made it very clear that he does not consider me to be a little piglet; rather, he feels I am a full-size great big pig...
2. Someone pointed out that I moan too much and should be happier - nobody wants to get all sad reading about my trivial little problems.
3. A well-meaning (I think) individual pointed out that the title of my blog is meaningless, as there is precious little wine and hardly any wisdom anywhere within, an offence under the trade descriptions act.
4. There are not enough photographs.
5. There are too many photographs, and most are unclear and of poor quality.

Not to worry! Win some, lose some, annoy even more...

But should even few of my subjects touch a nerve, make you think, agree or disagree, I will have succeeded. And feel free to write in and tell me about it.

The Temptress of Maida Vale

Last night I was fortunate to be accompanied by my friend NL to make my long-promised evening visit to the small, quirky, bohemian restaurant that I had so far only visited in its morning guise as a cafe. The visit exceeded all expectations in culinary terms, but left me feeling sad at the lack of appreciation that spectacularly good cooking can sometimes face purely because it's sited in, perhaps, the wrong area and operating in an individual fashion.

First things first: the place is aptly named Les Douceurs de la Tentation (the Pleasures of Temptation) and it is situated 20 yards from where Elgin Avenue begins, by the Harrow road. It is tiny, simple, and operates a bookings-only policy in the evenings because it is a one-woman show by the chef-patron, with only occasional help from a waiter when necessary. She is a little dynamo of energy and inventiveness, genial and kind, constantly looking to provide the best experience for her customers, but also cooking with firm authority and style.

The cooking is spectacularly good at all levels (her croissants, sandwiches and brunch plates are beautifully executed also, as mentioned in my original post), with clear taste matches and intelligent plays on texture, at least on everything I tried last night. The portions are generous but not massive, the plates arrive looking like real food,  not art on a plate (but still look great!), the French flair of the chef evident but not excessive - there is style here, yes, but plenty of substance too!

The restaurant is currently unlicensed so diners can bring their own wine (there is a small per person charge), enabling serious quality drinking for those that way inclined, though there is a licence application currently weaving its way through the system which may change all that. In a way a pity, this may allow this tiny place to boost its take and profitability, and survive.

We started with a pair of courses from the sea, I with scallops (with black pudding and peas) and my friend with a ravioli of lobster dish. Both were flavoursome, subtly multi-dimensional in taste and texture, really delicious and a good match for our white wine, currently on offer at half-price - Vasse Felix SemSauv 2013, juicy papaya and citrus fruit, mature, complex and luscious.

Our main courses were, if anything, more impressive than the starters. My friend had the beef medallions cooked medium, with a red wine reduction sauce; the dish was satisfactory in every way, tasty and comforting. I had supreme of chicken with red peppers and chorizo on a tomato base, rich and bursting with flavour, the firm texture of the white chicken meat contrasting with the soft red peppers and the spiciness of the chorizo adding another dimension. Both dishes came with new potatoes, sweet and tasty, and were utterly satisfying and delicious. The red wine, a claret from 2015 (Baron des Tours, Medoc) was a decent non-clashing accompaniment, but unremarkable and way too young for my liking. We did not touch the third bottle!

And then we had dessert, possibly the best creme brûlée I have ever had, a perfect end to a lovely meal and so good that NL had to have a second one. I showed my renowned strength of character (ha-ha!) and only had the one...

I was devastated to observe that we were the only customers on a Saturday night in this tiny but delightful place, so I fear for its future. If you live in London and are in any way interested in good food and wine make tracks to Les Douceurs swiftly, for places like that are few and far between, so removed from the designer-led atmosphere of smart, fashionable places; they are fuelled by the passion of their individualistic proprietors and make the gastronomic world a better place. They provide pleasure in abundance and deserve to survive, and thrive.

Incidentally I am far from being the only nor, indeed,  the first person to be seduced by its charms. TripAdvisor is full of rave reviews from people who have enjoyed eating there, but obviously not enough of us visit regularly enough to enable it to be as successful as it deserves. This is quality food cooked with skill, character  and passion, served in an unpretentious manner - what's not to like? Go there, go there immediately - check their website for opening times and booking procedure, necessary as they cannot accommodate walk-ins - and you will not be disappointed; you can thank me later.