Prolegomena To Any Future Single Malt Scotch Whisky.

Oh this tasting and thinking self!  We experience it and swear we’re at the heart of who we are, and yet, and yet. But though we may call this thinking self (the soul) substance, as being the ultimate subject of thinking which cannot be further represented as the predicate of another thing, it remains quite … Continue reading Prolegomena To Any Future Single Malt Scotch Whisky.

Prolegomena To Any Future Ragù.

I read Immanuel Kant’s Prolegomena To Any Future Metaphysics after spending many years with Hermann Hesse, Franz Kafka, Jorge Luis Borges, Anne Carson, Gabriel García Márquez, and Virginia Woolf which means I understand Kant’s metaphysics through those authors, through The Metamorphosis, The Circular Ruins, Autobiography of Red, One Hundred Years of Solitude and The Waves.   My … Continue reading Prolegomena To Any Future Ragù.

My Tongue As A Sandwich With A Glass of Burgundy

Miley Cyrus has a famous tongue.  So do Mick Jagger and Albert Einstein. Merriam-Webster defines a tongue as a tapering flame, long narrow strip of land projecting into a body of water, a moveable pin in a buckle.  François Rabelais has Pantagruel cover an army with his tongue to protect them from a rain storm. … Continue reading My Tongue As A Sandwich With A Glass of Burgundy

A Taste Of Spring In Fall: Redzepi, Heaney and Vivaldi With A Dram Of Johnnie Walker Black

For Monday 16-Tuesday 17 May, Rene Redzepi writes the following in his journal, I went foraging, sinking into the forest, tasting things, hoping to clear my thoughts and take that deep, relaxing breath that allows me to shrug off the bustle of the kitchen.  I took a second and rested on my haunches, absentmindedly picking … Continue reading A Taste Of Spring In Fall: Redzepi, Heaney and Vivaldi With A Dram Of Johnnie Walker Black

And Now For Something Completely Different . . . And Yet There’s Always A Bone.

Two years ago I fell into reading Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma and this act opened the books of Joel Saladin, Carlo Petrini, Sir Albert Howard, Aldo Leopold, Daniel Barber and many others.  And, of course, I read Wendell Berry.  Poet and farmer, Berry coined the key sentence for all of us who understand there … Continue reading And Now For Something Completely Different . . . And Yet There’s Always A Bone.