food commune

Daily Rations from the Peoples' Dining Committee to Glorify the Order of the IMESSariat

mulled wine all the time (xmas 2012!)

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merry marxmas from pula, croatia! yes we have been wearing these hats in public throughout our entire trip.

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here is some fish sara consumed in ljubljana.

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and here imogen is eating a burek at the ljubljana xmas market.

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this was also at the xmas market - we ended up wandering around here a whole bunch, mainly to indulge in the various mulled wine selections…

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buckets and buckets of this shit everywhere

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 ”it’s not christmas without nutmeg!” - sara. pictured here is the large pail of homemade egg nog we made on xmas morning, spiced with an inappropriate level of rum.

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homemade eggnog is best consumed in a picturesque ferrero roche and knitting adorned environment…

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… or in imess-style plastic bottles while climbing around castles in the middle of pula.

wishing you all the best during this festive season,
your comrades,

imogen and sara

comrades! just a small post to mark my excitement about my imminent travels. in a few hours i will be meeting comrades laurynas and adrien in london fucking england, at which time we will immediately proceed to the brick lane beigel bake to indulge in my favourite london cuisine. in honour of this reunion, please enjoy this yiddish song about bagels.
Yiddish lyrics

Bublichki,
Koyft mayne beygelecht,
Heysinke bublichki,
Hu,koyft…

Es kumt bald on di nakht,
Ich shtey zikh tif fartrakht,
Zet,mayn eygelecht
Zaynen farshvarst.
Der frost indroysn brent,
Farfroyrn mayne hent,
Fer tzores zing ikh mir
Mayn troy’rik lid.

Nu,koyft zhe bublichki,
Heysinke beygelekht,
Di letste beygelekht,
Nu koyft bay mir…
Ikh shtey aleyn in gas,
Fun regn ver ikh nas,
Di letste beygelekht,
Nu koyft bay mir…

Di nakht es geyt farbay,
Der tog rukt on afsnay,
Ikh shtey in gas un trakht,
Vos vet dokh zayn?
Der veytik iz in hoyz,
Fun hunger gey ikh oys,
Oy menshn,hert mayn lid,
Fun hunger shvakh.

English translation

BAGELS! HOT BAGELS!

Come-and-get my bagels
Hot bagels, hot rolls
It’s almost night now
Here I stand deep in thought
See, how dark my eyes are!

It’s freezing out here
My hands are frozen stiff
This sad song comes out of
My desperate troubles!

So! Come-and-get my bagels!
Hot bagels! Hot rolls!
My last few bagels
So! Come-and-buy my bagels!

Here I stand all-alone in the street
Soaked through by the rain
So! Come-and-buy my bagels
Night has fallen. There’s no light left.

Here I stand thinking
What’s gonna be?
There’s nothing but pain at home
I’m so hungry, I’m about to faint

Dear folks, hear my song
I’m so hungry I’m about to faint
So! Come-and-buy my bagels
My last few bagels!

OK so there have been no pictures for a while but I just thought I’d share this to demonstrate how Sara and I have been keeping the food commune spirit alive virtually. Also we are definitely making ‘amazeboobs’ a thing, clearly.

OK so there have been no pictures for a while but I just thought I’d share this to demonstrate how Sara and I have been keeping the food commune spirit alive virtually. Also we are definitely making ‘amazeboobs’ a thing, clearly.

Obey propaganda! -Towarzysz Roman

Obey propaganda!

-Towarzysz Roman

Billingsgate

Shalom,

I am preparing for Shabbat and thought it be appropriate to write something for the blog, even more so after Sara commented on my lack of engagement in this enterprise of ours. 

So, this morning I went to the fish market and bought eight oysters and two crabs.  On the way back I had a beef bagel just as I was to commend myself for being a good Christian and abstaining from meat on Friday. I also got a challah. But it is not braided!

Otherwise, London is dull and grim.  Were it not for the “insanely” (to quote the Survivalist) delicious oysters, it would be even worse.  I need to go to the sauna lest I get depressed.

Peace be with you!

fearless and toothless in budapest

sziasztok a bajtársaim!

some of you may remember that i recently had to undergo a terrifying, life-threatening, dental operation. here is some brief and select documentation of that process and its aftermath.

the last photographic evidence of my front teeth in their pure and authentic form, as i head out to face my dental doom. viszontlátásra, fogam!

life is so hard, my comrades. yet some things are surprisingly less hard than you imagine they will be. these things may include recovery from deadly tooth operations. last week i almost died when i had an appointment with a hungarian dental surgeon who fortuitously turned out not to be a creepy psycho killer of the human centipede persuasion. but, yes comrades, i triumphantly survived the near fatal surgery to eat the following delicious things. 

home-made potato soup / burgonyaleves

my new friend in budapest, louisa, came over the day after my operation to make me potato soup and keep me company during my time of suffering. but in fact i was in much better shape than any of us had anticipated, and have been recovering relatively smoothly (touch balls).

we topped the burgonyaleves with sajt és petrezselyem

all post tooth-surgery periods demand blended beverages. consequently, another new comrade of mine, cecile, graciously lent me her blender for the occasion, and i have been breaking many food commune rules (implemented single-handedly by our pickiest comrade, mind you) to invent innovative tasty smoothies.

this one probably came about through all manners of unlikely combinations… maybe bananas? spinach? carrot? apple juice? yoghurt? cocoa? blueberries? mint? it was damn delicious though. ignore the evil cat on the cocoa box in the background. 

in the days that followed my operation, i read a lot, and watched the wire, imported from prága via imogen, but was fine to leave the house and make merry in almost no time. and indeed it has been a good week for merriment. on monday, i discovered a balkan music night that takes place at a pub down the road from where i live, where a bulgarian woman teaches everyone southeast european folk dances while an all-female band plays a mix of serbian, croatian, and macedonian traditional music.

yesterday the same pub hosted its weekly hungarian folk music night, at which i met a hungarian man who tried to pick me up with the following line: “you know, the best way to learn hungarian is in bed” (it did not work). after i told him what my dissertation is about, he ranted for a long time about “the fucking gyppos” and responded to everything i said with “oh stop it with your jewish propaganda!” it was nemzetti ünnep (national holiday in hungary commemorating the 1956 revolution), and we had just come from seeing the Viktator Himself give a speech outside the hungarian parliament, via running into a super creepy late-night jobbik rally with people brandishing lit torches and fascistic-styled banners, so i was all maxed-out on my tolerance for hungarian rightwing bullshit, and quickly got away from the man before i could pull a comrade imogen and punch him in the face.

post-operation studying at massolit bookstore, my second home in budapest (thanks to comrade roman introducing me to it in the summertime). you can’t tell but something in this photo is TOTALLY FAKE.

all in all, life is hard, my dearest friends, but also mostly okay and entertaining. i hope all the comrades are enjoying it these days, whether in prága, london vagy moszkva.

szeretettel és barátsággal,
sara 

The first iteration of knedlikove mini-pizzy. More to come. Communally, perhaps.

The first iteration of knedlikove mini-pizzy. More to come. Communally, perhaps.

But, what are we going to melt cheese on tomorrow?

—Imogen, to Sara regarding the Edam in her backpack that she brought from Praha to Budapest

Rory Moore: “You know the English translation of the sign at Chernobyl? That’s basically the Rosetta Stone for Adrien’s English.”

Rory Moore: “You know the English translation of the sign at Chernobyl? That’s basically the Rosetta Stone for Adrien’s English.”