Ich bin ein...

"There are many people in the world who really don't understand, or say they don't, what is the great issue between the free world and the Communist world," said President John F Kennedy, speaking in West Berlin in 1963, two years after the demarcation of the Berlin Wall. "Let them come to Berlin."

For all the charlatanism that may have come out of the west before and since that speech, it was fundamentally true, in that the contrast between West Berlin and East Berlin was stark. I know, I was there 10 years before the wall came down.

Of course, by then it had become policy to pour money into the West Berlin enclave (I use the word advisedly; we drove there from Hamburg on a designated road from which we could not deviate). This had the effect of making the distinction more artificially obvious - on one side a place teaming with traffic and commerce, while on the other grey sobriety and hushed, furtive, stillness. One might equally argue that, in that era, one could have gone to Chile or Indonesia - both allies of the West - and one would have witnessed even worse oppression (in iraq too, then an ally of the West). But then, on the other hand, the so-called Gherman Democratic Republic (DDR) was less poor and less oppressive than many other communist regimes of the era, such as Romania, China or Cambodia. In the end, however much one might be tempted to draw simplistic conclusions either way, the contrast going from the west to the East was stark.

I engaged in that political tract because I returned to Berlin last weekend with my offspring, for the second time since the wall came down. The last time was five years ago, when I stayed with a couple who were very much of the view that the wall was still there in all but name. Of course, this is a rhetorical overstatement. Nevertheless, when one gets away from the tourist and shopping districts between the Brandenburg Gate and the Alexander Platz, the legacy of the poverty and neglect of the DDR is apparent in the sombre, grimy buildings, the neglected papvements and the ubiquity of apartment blocks. Although the streets are teeming with life now, with the Trabant cars and propaganda posters replaced by commercial advertising and western cars, the shabbiness of the east still contrasts with the west.

That said, a lot of the outstanding sights are in the eastern sector, especially the Pergamon Museum - that monument to the 19th century Prussian fondness for plundering classical archaeological sites. Whole architectural structures from ancient Greece, Babylon and the Islamic Middle East were taken there and reconstructed indoors. There is also the Museum of the DDR - funny in many ways but ultimately chilling in terms of its recreation of the numbness of life in that era.

Of course, the other trauma that pervades Berlin is World War II and the preceding Nazi era. I had been warned that the Holocaust Memorial was just a bundle of blocks but when one goes far into it one can appreciate how it was intended to convey the oppressiveness of that awful time. People wander through the claustrophobic spaces talking and eating ice cream but that is how it should be.

Ultimately, I am moved at how Berlin - and the Berliners - have never failed to pick themselves up after each of the knocks of the 20th Century and invent themselves - and their culture - anew. That is the lasting message I take away from this wonderful city.

It's finally over

My children practically grew up on it and, even if it had no entertainment value in its own right, it was such a phenomenon in the lives of their generation than any parent would have had to show an interest. Now, after seven book and eight films, there's nothing left to look forward to.


Yes, I'm talking about Harry Potter. I don't think there has ever been anything like it in adult or in children's publishing. It has created the delusion that there is a fortune to be made in Children's writing, which is not the case: I know that most children's and young adults' writers are struggling - and that's the tiny minority who manage to get published in the first place.


So, what's the deal with this? Well, certainly, in the end the bandwagon became so unstoppable that critical opinion didn't matter any more. I personally felt that the later books - 5, 6 and, especially, 7 - could have done with some editing. I also felt that, in 5 and 6, Harry often behaved like a petulant brat and that it was harder to root for him than in the earlier books. So, overall, these books were less satisfying. But there is no gainsaying the fact that the first 4 books were excellent. I know that some critics have accused JKR of borrowing all her ideas from other authors but the way she has combined the elemants of the boarding school, fantasy and Roald Dahl-style mischievous morality stories is quite unique to her and she doesn't need to apologise to anyone. As for the trailing off in quality after the fourth, this coincided with the appearance of the film series and one wonders to what extent JKR was simply pushed to rush the last books.


As for the films, they are a mixed bag. Some of the criticisms of the first movie were a bit harsh and, especially after Chris Columbus left the director's chair, they really found their rhythm (Cuaron's rendition of the third book was probably the best, although Newell's adaptation of the fourth was also excellent. By far the weakest was the seventh. When I heard that the first book was going to be broken into two films I knew it wouldn't work - if there was any of the seven books that was amenable to serious trimming this was it. So, the first of the two movies was ponderous, with interminable scenes of the three main protagonists hanging out in a tent in various spectacular landscapes. Thankfully, the series got back on form for the last, climactic movie.

So now it's over? Can anything ever replace it?

Day in Dublin

I have been going back to Ireland regularly to see my children but in the future I'll probably go less often as Cian is moving to the UK in September and I will bring my Aifric over there instead. Incidentally, Cian has finished university this year - passing out with flying colours, while Aifric is awaiting her school leaving exam results in August so this is a watershed year for both (I've every confidence that Aifric will come out with flying colours too).

In the past I found the trips depressing - partly for personal reasons and partly because of the state of the country. As everyone knows, Ireland is saddled with a massive bank debt - the legacy of 10 years of recklessly irresponsible government. There is a credit famine, unemployment is up and people have been spending less, so many businesses have folded or are in examinership.

I was pleased, however, on my last visit that things seemed a little less gloomy - at least in terms of the mood in the street. I met Cian and my friend, Dermot, for a very healthy salad lunch in the lovely Cornucopia café (the food there is delicious, even if the queuing system is a bit chaotic). We undermined the healthiness, though, by finishing off with chocolate brownies and cream.

After that, I wandered up Grafton street on a fine summer afternoon (the fact that it was a fine afternoon probably had a lot to do with the mood - also, the sales were on). I wandered in and out of shops making purchases - rashers, sausages etc. to bring home to make an Irish breakfast, cheddar cheese (for a country that produces so many excellent cheeses of its own, I was surprised at how excited the Swiss are by a good cheddar), baked beans (for Magdalena's son), second-hand books, DVDs, clothes, Polish cheese and sausage (there are great Polish shops in Dublin - much better than here in Geneva or its environs), and so on.

It was heartening to see how busy the shops were but the activity in the pedestrianised street was no less frenetic.. There were numerous buskers - most of them outstandingly good, sand sculptors and many other street artists and the outside tables at pubs and cafés were full.

I am not blind to the fact that poverty levels have risen sharply in recent years and that there is a lot of invisible misery. Moreover, the economic prospects aren't good; there is every reason to believe that things will get worse before they get better. Still, I hope my compatriots at least have more such pleasant days this summer.

That old dish again!

Yes, we’ve all had bad versions of it – frozen and packaged or bought in foil trays from the supermarket and heated in the microwave. Even when we’ve had it at dinner parties it usually hasn’t been memorable. And let’s not forget the tired vegetarian versions that are trotted out as the stock-in-trade vegetarian meal.

I’m talking, of course, about lasagne. Probably very few of us have had it in Italy – I’ve been there many times and can’t recall ever having had it there. So it’s probably best not to warble on about authenticity and to focus on the version that you like.

Because, like many hackneyed and abused dishes – and leaving pretensions of authenticity aside – it can be really memorable and it’s a great party dish in that it can be made ahead of time and just need a salad to go with it.

My meat lasagne is based on the recipe given to me by my dear friend Veronica Cody nearly 30 years ago. Over the years, together with family and friends, I’ve adapted it more to exactly the way I like it. I usually make it in double quantities (enough for about 12 people) and freeze it when it’s assembled (to be thawed and baked in the oven later).

Here’s the recipe for the double quantity (quantities aren’t rigid):

900g minced beef

300g minced pork

3 large onions, chopped

300g mushrooms, sliced

1200g tinned and chopped tomatoes

4 carrots grated

5 garlic cloves or more, crushed

Fistful of fresh basil leaves torn

Other herbs as available (oregano, mint, bay etc)

Half a tube of tomato puree

1 l milk

50 g (or so) of butter

50 g (or so) of flour – enough to soak up the butter

12-15 sheets of pre-cooked spinach lasagne

500 g grated cheddar or gruyere cheese

120 g grated gran pandano cheese.

Pre-heat the oven to 180 deg. C. or equivalents if you’re baking it right away .

Fry the onions and mushrooms in a large saucepan, remove and reserve. Fry the minced meat. Add back in the onions and mushrooms. Add the tomatoes, puree, crushed garlic, grated carrot and herbs. Season with salt and pepper, and cook for about 20 minutes with the lid off. Meantime, melt the butter in another saucepan, put in enough flour to soak it up, then gradually add the milk, whishing it with each addition to keep it smooth. When you’ve added all the milk it may be a bit runny but when you bring it to simmering point it should gradually thicken, as long as you keep whisking it, making sure the flour doesn’t stick to the bottom of the pan. When it has thickened, take it off the heat and add half the grated cheddar or gruyere.

Spread a layer of the meat sauce thinly over the bottoms of two buttered lasagne or gratin dishes, follow with a thin layer of cheese sauce and then cover with lasagne sheets, taking care not to overlap but filling in spaces at the edge with broken sheets. Repeat the layers, ending with a layer of the cheese sauce. Sprinkle the rest of the grated cheddar or gruyere over the top of the dishes and the gran padano over that. If cooking straight away, 30 minutes in the oven should be enough. If the dishes are chilled – or frozen and subsequently thawed – the baking time should be increased by at least 15 minutes. When the cheese is melting and browning on top they are done.

A vegetarian version can be done by adapting Delia Smith’s Mediterranean roasted vegetable lasagne whereby the meat sauce is replaced by a mixture of roasted vegetables, doubling the quantities approximately as follows:

2 aubergines, cut into 1cm dice, sprinkled with salt and pressed in a colander for about 20 minutes

4 medium courgettes, treated the same way

1 kg cherry tomatoes (Delia says to peel them but life is too short);

2 yellow peppers, cut in 1 cm cubes

3 red onions, cut into 1cm squares

5 cloves of garlic, crushed

Fistful of basil leaves, torn

Put the cherry tomatoes in one shallow tin and sprinkle with the garlic and basil. Put the other vegetables in another similar tin. Sprinkle both tins with olive oil and get the vegetables coated. Season with salt and pepper and roast at 240 degrees C for about 30 to 40 minutes. After that, mix everything, and add about 100g black olives, pitted. Otherwise proceed as for the meat version, making the cheese sauce and assembling everything with the rest of the grated cheese on top and bake in the same way.

Bruges's lesser-known cousin

Nowadays, most people are aware of the beauty and historical significance of Bruges (or Brugge, to give it it's Flemish name); that magnificent hanseatic town in Belgium which is a world heritage site and the setting for Martin McDonagh's blackly comic film.

Not quite so many people are aware that another Flemish town, een nearer to brussles, is almost as pretty and well-preserved, as well as being much more lively and less touristy.

Ghent (Gent in Flemish, Gand in French) was also a Hanseatic town and is similar to it's better-known cousin in many respects; it has the trademark Flemish/ Dutch-style houses with the forward-facing gables, as well as lots of churches and beautiful squares and a few canals. Unlike Bruges, it has an imposing castle pretty much at the heart of the town (The Gravensteen castle) and a very lively shopping area, as well as a red light district.

In fact, up until the 13th century, it was bigger than any other Euroean city except Paris - i.e. bigger than London or Rome. It's wool industry was so highly developed that it had to import wool from as far away as England and Scotland. the English connection is reinforced by the city being the birthplace of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster and younger brother of the Black Prince (probably best remembered through his famous "scepter'd isle" deathbed speech in Shakepeare's Richard II).

There is easily as much to see there as in Bruges - that is, if you can steal yourself away from tasting the excellent beer or eating local flemish delicacies (my favourties are the shrimp croquettes or garnalankroketjes).

The Cathedral of Saint Bavo (Sint Baafs) and the church of Saint Michael are probably the highlights among the churches, although it's the belfry tower that dominates the skyline. And if you do go to the cathedral, the alterpiece known as The Adoration of the Mystic Lamb by Hubert and Jan van Eyck is a must-see (Jan is famous for his beautiful painting, The Arnolfini Marriage, which also illistrates his mastery of perspective and his near-photographic style).

And can you do canal rides, like in Bruges, you ask? Well, of course you can!