The politics of mineral wealth and the redistribution of that wealth to the people whose country it belongs is a huge and thorny issue that has occupied historians, social scientists and economists for years. It did get me thinking, however. My own work on material culture has not been that focused on exactly where minerals and non-organic raw materials came from–so much was recycled–but it is certainly a subject that requires more historical interest across periods and something I intend to follow up in the future. I have a much better picture of organic raw materials such as wood, linen and silk.

All this just reminded me more of the minerals I miss looking at, handling and studying, shining under UV light, etc. So I thought I’d revisit a set of photos I took a few years back and use them to think about minerals in earnest again.

See my whole Minerals set on flickr:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/courgettelawn/sets/1794338/

Bergamo ochre

Bergamo, however, surprised me from the start. Apart from the good mood my magical arrival put me in was first passing the greengrocer (fruttivendolo?). The window display (and they are always beautiful) burst with baskets of mushrooms of the season, including the ever present funghi porcini, young courgette flowers (fiori di zucchini) which can be fried or stuffed, oranges and greens. The damp misty air was clearly the lifeblood of those mushrooms and I was only sorry I didn’t get a chance to buy any fresh to cook myself. Next time. Pasticceria after caffè and pizzeria and enoteca (wine bar/shop) brought me to the broad windows of Il Fornaio. This was the familiar pizza al taglio (pizza by the slice) done in style and whose no-nonsense warmth was aimed about both visitors and locals. You bought your pizza by the weight with a single ‘slice’ being a healthy lunchtime portion. I had local gorgonzola, speck (good quality cooked smoked ham) and noci (walnuts) while my travelling companion had chargrilled carciofi (artichokes), smoked cheese (I can’t remember the variety) and pomodorini (cherry) tomatoes. Perched on top of the pastry and bakery counter which adjoined the pizzas we tucked in heartily, cheek by jowl with many others seeking shelter from the rain and a pausa.

On the way back to the hotel I became curious about a cake that adorned many a shop window with the neatly written label ‘Polenta ed Osei‘ (polenta and birds) or ‘Polentina’, domes of various size from individual portion to h-uge gilded in polenta with varying decoration of a chocolate bird, glace cherry and/or angelica on top. I had no idea what would be in side and neither did my companion. In the interests of science we purchased one each from two vendors, mine from Panificio Tresoldi. I read now that apparently it is meant to represent a typically turned out mound of polenta being pecked by birds. It is really quite difficult to describe except that it is a flavour and texture sensation. Bad ones could so easily be offensive. As it was, the balance of chocolate and nut butter cream meringue (yes, really), sponge and marzipan was surprisingly not overly sweet, blended well and I could detect some liqueur or other but could not identify which. The rougher exterior provided by the sugar and polenta is the vehicle through which you can savour each element on your tongue and around your palette. I might try making one. Or I might just need to return to Bergamo soon. We didn’t share in the end. Neither of us could. A fagotino al ciocolato (chocolate pastry) from another pasticceria after a long day in Milan proved to me that they treat sugar and chocolate with respect in this part of the world.

Coffee was universally good. Including at the hotel, Hotel Agnello D’Oro. Caffè del Tasso provided us with another beautiful venue for an afternoon coffee, all the tourist guides will lead you here to the main square Piazza Vecchia. I did not unfortunately have an opportunity to experience its pastries, cakes or fresh juices, nor an early evening aperitivo but it looked good. Pity it did not serve after 8pm. Next time. Here was where, as in so many cafes which must have sustained a smokey shadowy existence at one time (perhaps even since 1476 whence it claims its origins)–now all gone but the walls are still imbued with subversive talk and rebellion. Of course Garibaldi came here to plot with his Bergamascan followers. One of the most enigmatic destinations for a digestivo, or indeed an aperitivo, or indeed just a coffee, was the Caffè della Funicolare. The menu and advertising in front of the place, nestled inside the funicular station which transports you gently to the Città Bassa (Lower City), did not seem promising at first, but after a delicious but none the less disappointing meal (see below) and being one of the few places open after 9.30pm we decided to give it a go. And it did not disappoint. I needed tea (there was a fine selection for Italy) and went for some lapsang souchong, accompanied by a generous slice of homemade Torta di Mele (apple cake). When you experience such satisfying food and drink in such an incredible atmosphere–again the place was packed but pleasantly unintrusive and the night views over to Bergamo bassa helped to insert oneself into the pleasing liminal bubble that I felt I occupied throughout my short stay.

The ristoranti around Piazza Vecchia left me a little cold. One evening we did try for an aperitivo at ‘Il Bar’ and it was worth it for a glass of velvet soft Valcalepio local wine. One meal at San Michele with its hand-written menu promised much but left us a little hungry. That said, one plate of the local casoncelli pasta, tortellini stuffed with roasted veal, amaretti, sultanas, Spadona pears, lemon zest, spices and garlic, simply served with a dressing of olive oil and butter, Parmasean and fried sage leaves was superb. We just needed more. The wine was ‘locale’ but not specified. It was a strange kind of place. No one else in this vast restaurant, clearly part of the Piazza Vecchia furniture and served by a couple who could have only been the proprietors. They seemed tired and so did the menu although the prices were not.

Some of the most inventive and superlative food I have ever eaten in Italy was at Vineria Cozzi whose fusion of deeply regional (genuinely so) cuisine and global fine dining was both astonishing and inviting. It is a testament to the brilliantly throughout out menu, with traditional courses of antipasti, primi, secondi and dolci (they call them I miei dolci pensieri… My sweet thoughts…) that I could only use my opportunities to eat there for anti pasti, pasta and dessert. The first evening we tried the place we were intending just to toast our arrival with prosecco and so we did. I wish I had paid more attention to where it had come from as its fine bubbles were far above the supermarket fizz you can often get here in the name of prosecco. The wine was served with the obligatory snacks although these extended to complimentary anti pasti: salted peanuts, olives, crisps and then small dishes of baked polenta with pork belly and beans. Our second aperitivo we decided to order up the dish of local salami to share. It was another regret that I could not purchase any of these to take back from one of the beautifully presented salumeria (deli) in town. I was only once I was amongst the hams, and the strong scented cheese while I chose a bottle of wine that would not take me over my paltry luggage allowance (this was Il Calepino 2007). Next time. I recommended we drink Campari (rosso) and soda with the salami that Vineria Cozzi served us and this worked perfectly. The fresh bread served with it was the best I have enjoyed in Italy, it had flavour both soft and stretchy textures, sesame seeds and poppy seeds. It minded me that the bread sold at Il Fornaio where we had had the pizza al taglio was classified according to the type of flour used (e.g. integrale, typo ’00′, etc.)

The main meals were served in the restaurant (see a menu) part which contrasted from the French cafe feel of the bar area with its wall to wall spirits, wines and liqueurs–particularly grappa of a bewildering variety of grapes, both blends and singles and the enticing camomile liqueur made my Marolo which I didn’t get to try. For our first main meal of the trip we ordered the local casoncelli, as we were to later at San Michele. Here I was more convinced that they made their own. (I think San Michele must have prepared theirs using the artisanal pasta you can buy by the kilo from the salumerie.) Again, served with melted butter, oil, seasoned beautifully and garnished with whole crisp fried sage leaves and similarly crisp pancetta. The nature of pasta is that it makes you eat quickly. These parcels of immense flavour, however, encouraged you to let the morsels melt in your mouth. Having already been fed like kings with our prosecchi, we did not feel we wanted any more food but we did order grappa, the choice being given was sweet/smooth (morbide) or dry (secche). The rest of the choice we left to the waiter. We had not at this stage realised that we were in a place of genuine grappa connoiseurship. We ordered dry. By this time, the curfew bell tolled by the Campanone (town bell tower) was tolling for its 100th strike (it rings 180 times to remind the medieval peasantry to return home behind the walls at 10pm). The waiter arrived with two bicchierini of the most elegant form: like a rare Dutch tulip growing from the most slender of stems. I asked the waiter what the grappa was and we were openly shown the bottle: Grappa Gaja & Rey made by Castello di Barbaresco. Crystal clear, smooth as a good astringent honey. Heady, yet able to seep slowly into every sinew. Evening two at the Vineria, which had started with Campari and salami noting well the seriousness with which they took their food and drink [interesting choice of background image behind a display of artisanal glasses and presentation wine, a black and white photograph of a sumptuous feast (c.1980?) being enjoyed by three naked women, wearing pearls and a naked man embracing them and the feast] there followed another choice each from the primi menu, for me fusili (emphasis on the middle ‘i’) in venison stewed with cocoa and for my friend homemade gnocchi in a wild mushroom stew with toasted pine nuts, accompanied by a glass of Verdicchio. We went straight for a sweet thought each. I washed mine down with probably one of the best red wines I have ever had with a meal, ‘Il Kalos’, a Calepino wine of pure Cabernet Sauvignon, strong at 14.1%, described as deep ruby red with purple reflections. I imagined that the very wealthy Athenian aristocrats would have (should have) drunk something like this when pondering participative democracy, out of a krater perhaps. Or was this the wine that the ancient Persians quaffed and got drunk to while mulling over important decisions (so said Herodotus)? I digress. Finally to our sweet thoughts. Friend: meringue topped ice cream with fig syrup sauce, me: Tower of Babel, a chocolate fondant pudding made with extra dark chocolate aubergines and pink pepper corns, served with a cardamom short biscuit. Really there were no words. You must eat it to understand.

And that was just in Bergamo’s old town. Eating in Milan was more or less on the hoof, with a note worth making on ‘Il Milanese’ (Via Santa Maria, 11 – read the Frommer’s review) whose untranslated genuinely authentic menu was deserving of more than our fleeting visit at the end of lunch service (they accommodated us for a quick pasta none the less–Vi ringraziamo!). While I had to take the opportunity of relaxing into some porcini tagliatelle, my companion went for the signature risotto milanese, resplendent saffron gold in the white bowl. If you are in Monza, do keep a sum of money aside to sit outside with a coffee, or if you are in a devil may care mood, a spremuta d’arancia (freshly squeezed orange juice) at Confetteria Moderno in Piazza Roma, adjacent to the medieval covered market.

Tortelli di zucca, San Vigilio

San Vigilio brought me to the end of my short sojourn in Lombardy. We reached the village after a morning wandering the side streets of Bergamo, taking ourselves then down to the Donizetti museum where the tones of Anna Bolena gently wafted through our ears and remained with us to the end of the day. We took the second funicular railway of the city up to San Vigilio and arrived around midday. We were greeted with spectacular views across to the foothills of the Alps and the lush green terraces of the plains below. As we exited the tiny station we saw an ‘api’ van deliver fresh sticks of bread to the restaurant/pizzeria which has taken its name from the village, San Vigilio. We were going originally to go for a coffee or a juice and ended up there for the entirety of lunch service, overlooking the same view we enjoyed on our arrival from an enclosed terrace table, but with opera in our ears and the slow continuum of exceptional food and drink, the hovering mist giving way to warm mare’s tails and moments of blue, this was a genuinely other worldly experience. It would be silly to labour the point, so here is what we ate and drank:

Pane: sticks of plain, poppyseed and sesame seed bread (two rounds)
Primi: tortelli di zucca e zatate con Burro versato e mandorle (pumpkin and potato stuffed pasta with melted butter and toasted almonds) (two rounds)
Secondi: tagliata di manzo con rucola, grana e patate al forno (bavette style steak, cooked medium-rare with rocket, grana cheese and served with oven baked potatoes) and
stufato di manzo con velo di speck e mela caramellata (stewed beef with slices of smoked cooked ham and caramelized apples)
Patatine fritte (French Fries)
Da bere: a half bottle of Toscano Ruffino (red) and natural mineral water.
Digestivo: two caffè, one with grappa of Optima Gialla (peppery, herby, strong, warmth) and the other with grappa of Prime Uve Nera.

Birdsong was broadcasted when Oneword went off air. It was originally used for the test transmission of Classic FM before its launch in 1992. It was then used three years ago for the station “D1_temp” and was popular with listeners who sent into complaints when it was taken off air in June 2005.

Since April 2008, it has broadcast (most effectively) in stereo.

Devoted listeners should note warnings on the UK Digital Radio website:

Listeners and Birdsong enthusiasts should note the transmission could cease at any time and that the recording is not commercially available.

Please note that the line up of birds featured in the cast may change without warning due to illness, weather and migration.

One listener quoted in a Telegraph Online article said:

It is a lot more enjoyable than some of the rubbish on air these days – and definitely better than debate or phone-in shows full of ‘oiks’ shouting at each other.

Read the Telegraph Online article about the surprising popularity of Birdsong.

As for me, it’s like having the outside inside which as I stare lovingly at the garden from one of the kitchen windows and over the urban valley through the other, makes me feel like I am in some weird kind of aural landscape! I recommend it.

Being in a bluebell wood for the first time transported me to a time which I only remember within the memories of my cells. There is no cognitive memory of it, but humans here, in this part of the world, have surely marvelled at this spring-time show in the same way I did today. There was a sense of that, anyway.

How can anyone call these weeds? They’re the sun, for free.

The stones for the Circle will come from all over the world and when polished up will represent each of the seven colours of the rainbow (not dyed or tinted, the colour will be the natural hue of the rock so the effect quite subtle but dramatic). The new circle will have polished blue stones from an extant quarry in Preseli. The blue stones are dolorite, an extremely hard rock that is midnight blue (indigo) with small flecks of other colours such as green and grey, quite different to the eroded lichen-covered and pock-marked grey of the stones at Stonehenge today. Other rocks will come from Agra (‘red’ stone also used in the building of Taj Mahal), Norway (blue rocks with large flecks of quartz crystal), Canada (green), Jerusalem sandstone (yellow, also used in the building of Solomon’s Temple) and a ring of amethyst may form the middle ring of purple.

People will not only be able to visit the Circle but there are also plans for a visitor centre that will explain something of the fasination humans have and continue to have with megaliths and stone circles, as well as provide learning and information about the natural environment in which the Circle will exist. The building and planning of the Circle and its visitor centre will hopefully include local people from its adjacent communities, scientists, astrologers, astronomers, archaeologists, natural historians, ecologists, botanists, meglithophiles, healers, Druids, musicians, acousticians, writers, artists, perhaps a hippy or two and anyone with a vested interest in showing what wonders can be made when combining inspiration from the past, a naturally beautiful environment and good minds. Whatever the opinions about the merits of this project (which will not be seeking public funds but rather sustain itself in a not-for-profit manner), I feel it will be a 21st century momument to cherish as much as our old friend that was built over a period of at least 800 years. As I said in response to the announcement of the project, there are no neo-pagan pretentions here for any continuity of tradition or a ‘right’ to worship, neither from Stonehenge fanatics who may seek to replicate the ancient henge momument. The Circle will indeed be a fine co-creation. Thoughts from others at Past Thinking and from Pete Glastonbury.

]]> http://tehmina.org/2006/06/25/solstice-daisies/feed/ 4 http://tehmina.org/2006/01/07/10/ http://tehmina.org/2006/01/07/10/#comments Sat, 07 Jan 2006 22:05:40 +0000 admin http://tehmina.org/?p=10 Why is it that no matter how much you tread on a lawn with daisies, these beauties always spring back up again with their pure white and proud petals and their sunny centres? To me, daisies demonstrate that there is a place in this idiotic world for eternal optimism and unconditional happiness. They keep springing back up. So can we. These ones were photographed in the Imperial Forum in Rome (April 2005). They’ve obviously been happy for a long time. Enjoy.

]]> http://tehmina.org/2006/01/07/10/feed/ 0 http://tehmina.org/2006/01/06/the-beautiful-life/ http://tehmina.org/2006/01/06/the-beautiful-life/#comments Fri, 06 Jan 2006 20:26:24 +0000 admin http://tehmina.org/?p=9 These two ladybirds were mating on the leaves of one of the leaves of an oriental poppy in our garden (May 2005). It’s good to see these things still happen in the middle of one of the most innocuous cities in Britain.  How wonderful.

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