I note with some amazement that apparently I have never written in this blog about my punishment policy.   This policy is at the forefront of my mind lots and lots, so I’m genuinely surprised to notice that of all the posts I’ve written, that wasn’t one of them.  

I guess it’s one of those things which seem so fundamentally basic to me that I never thought about specifying it before.   I mean, I don’t write about my thoughts on toothbrushing either, cos everybody knows about that, right?  

I had been supposing that like my thoughts on toothbrushing  (kind of annoying but a good idea to do),  my thoughts on punishment are probably shared by lots of other people.   But recently in a chastity themed yahoo group, one member had been posting fictional fantasy accounts about punishments and presenting them as fact.   And those accounts were so wildly and distantly removed from my personal experience of punishments that I thought, hey, maybe my approach to punishment is unusual after all.

I only noticed it wasn’t here when I wanted to provide the author of those accounts with a link to my description of my punishment policy.   I couldn’t remember it, and had a browse around my blog looking for it, and only when I couldn’t find it did I realise that I hadn’t done one!
 

whoops   :p

 
It must be in one of the zillions of unfinished posts I’ve got laying about the place.   So anyhow I thought I’d better get moving on that.   For clarity, I’ll specify that this is nothing to do with play punishments for fun.
 

Note Of Importantness:   When I mention  “punishment”  and related terms in this post, I am solely referring to a BDSM relationship context in which adults consensually use real punishments between themselves as a disciplinary tool, for the purposes of penalising unconsensual transgressions and modifying future behaviour.

 
But first, a shortcut.
 
 

Shortcut To The End

 
For those of you who don’t care  why  I do stuff and only want to know  what  I do, this is the long and short of it:

1. I never punish
2. I focus on reward-based training
3. I resolve problems using focused negotiation
4. that fits my needs very nicely, thank you.   :)

 
For those of you who want to know  why  I have chosen and continue to choose that approach, read on.   :)
 
 

Presuppositiony Goodness

 
I live my life and conduct my relationships based on certain presuppositions.   I check them regularly because my choice to continue is based on them being true.   If at any time they turn out to be false, then I will change what I’m doing until the circumstances support them being true.  

These are some of my basic presupposed goodnesses.
 
 
Me Exerting Myself  =  Boo   and   Easy  =  Yay
I want the smallest possible investment of my time and effort to yield the bestest possible result.   I have no interest in exerting myself to punish undesirable behaviour if the only outcome is more of the same undesirable behaviour.   That just sucks.   If I have to exert myself, I’d much rather get the result I want.   I think that’s reasonable.
 
My Partners’ Raison D’Être  =  My Pleasure
My partners already have a strong desire and motivation to please me, and in my experience punishments can only decrease it.   Since that desire can only work to benefit me, I have every interest in nurturing it like a tender carnivorous blossom, giving it loads of juicy flies to eat.  (metaphorically speaking, of course)
 
My Displeasure  =  Their Displeasure
My partners feel unhappy if they contribute to my displeasure.   Any failure to please me hurts them far more than any punishment.   So if I wanted them to suffer unspeakable torment  (which I don’t, for reasons I’ll get to in a sec),  all I need to do is express my displeasure.   That’s usually plenty to wilt them like a dehydrated fern.   Any punishment after that would only be redundant.
 
Trust  =  Yummy Goodness
Trust is difficult to build and easy to damage.   Establishing trust requires absolutely consistent reliability.   I need to be able to trust my partners, and I need my partners to be able to trust me.   Therefore I nurture and feed the rare and precious foliage of their trust by taking care that what I say and what I do always match, and I expect my partners to do the same for me.
 
 
So I operate under these presuppostions:

• I want the easiest possible route to my goals
• I encourage my partners’ desire and interest in pleasing me
• My displeasure wilts my partners like over-boiled cabbage leaves
• I must be as trustworthy as I expect my partners to be

Stuff About Choices

 
Sometimes people get hung up on beating themselves to a pulp for stuff they only  think  they caused, and sometimes without even confirming the existence of a problem.   You might recognise this with the  “shoulda”  mantra.   Like,  “I shoulda done this”  or  “I shun’ta done that”.   When it occurs in the absence of a pre-existing problem, sometimes the self-flagellation itself is the only problem.   In the context of my relationships, when my partners beat themselves up for stuff they didn’t do, my problem is that they miss opportunities to make stuff better even when they  can.

Self-flagellating is a choice, and deciding to make stuff better is also a choice.   From my perspective, my main interest is to make stuff better however it happened, and this goal is impeded by that pointless self-flagellation crap.   This is a good example of how some choices can be unhelpful and a waste of time and energy.
 
 
On the other hand, I’ve had a huge pile of sticky soggy badness from many people who cause a lot of shit themselves and then choose to blame other people for it.   This sucks not only because they’re distracting away from improving stuff by focusing on blame, but also because they made the stuff worse in the first place and then failed to make it better.
 

Abdicating responsibility is also incredibly unattractive and repellent to me but that’s a separate issue.

 
The way I see it, no matter what anybody else says or does, no matter whether they blame themselves or somebody else, and no matter how much anybody wants to pretend it isn’t so, the thing about being a responsible adult is that in general  adults are solely and entirely responsible for their own choices and how they act on those choices.
 
 
In my world,

• although the available choices may be limited, uncomfortable, undesirable, or just plain suck,  there are always choices.
• there is  no such thing  as  “I had no choice”  or  “they made me do it”.
• no matter who or what you blame or credit for what you do or don’t do,  people only ever do what they choose to do.

 
For me, it really is that simple.
 
 

Blame, Responsibility, And Sphere Of Responsibility

 
I am much more interested in  how  a fuckup actually happened than in whose fault it is.   I understand that fuckups can happen unintentionally or by accident.   Regardless of how a fuckup happened in the first place, my main interest is to change the fuckup result to a yummier one.   I think that’s only fair.

As I understand it, a person can be  responsible  for a fuckup without necessarily being  at fault.   As I understand it, the term  “blame”  contains a nuance of  fault  which is absent in the term  “responsibility”.
 
So in general I avoid the word  “blame“,  and favour the word  “responsibility“.
 
 
As part of working out how a fuckup happened, I first prefer to establish certain limits.   The limits I want to establish are about a person’s

• contribution to the fuckup
• acquisition of knowledge of and about the fuckup
• responsibility for the fuckup
• control of the causes of the fuckup

 
Establishing those limits before attributing responsibility is very important to me, and I refer to those limits as  the sphere of responsibility.
 
In my world, I can realistically expect myself and others to be responsible  only  for those fuckups which are within our sphere of responsibility, and for anything else no blame or responsibility can be attached.   I think that’s fair.

So that’s my thing about  “blame“  vs  “responsibility“,  and  sphere of responsibility.
 
 

Fucking With Trust

 
If I told my partner to do something  outside  their sphere of responsibility  (such as organising receipt of the $21.8 million from that nice prince in Nigeria who emailed me),  then holding them responsible for failing would be silly, and punishing them for it still wouldn’t get me my $21.8 million.

If I told my partner to do something  (like picking up my boots from the repair place),  and withheld important information which I knew but they didn’t  (like for instance, that I left no boots at the repair place),  then my partner has no way of completing that task, and punishing them for that failure still wouldn’t get me any boots which I didn’t leave anyhow.

Deliberately withholding relevant information in that way to ensure my partner’s failure is what I call  setting them up to fail.   I also call it manipulative and sabotaging.  

And fuckwitty.
 

I’m just going to assume we all agree that holding a person responsible for stuff outside their control is totally pointless, ok?

 
Since I find that the more my partners trust me, the more they let me boss the shit out of them  (and you know how hard I kink on the bossing-about thingy),  I therefore have no reason to cut their trust into tiny bits and stomp all over it, and every reason to tenderly water, feed, and give big juicy treats to their trust.

So in my world, I must first establish who actually caused which fuckup before I take any action, and any action I take must be limited to fuckups which my partner and I both agree are within their sphere of fuckupability.
 
 

Responsibility Summary Thingy

 
What I’ve been leading up to is that everybody’s sphere of responsibility remains the same no matter how much the idea of my control over them turns anybody into a quivering bowl of jelly hornballness.

And even if pretending could make the sphere of responsibility different, in any case I decline to consent to participate in the fantasy of the top  “forcing”  the bottom to do this or  “making”  the bottom do that.   I might temporarily play at it for really limited periods of time, but I live my life entirely differently.

A lot of people have tried to sell me a lot of misleading crap about this over the years, and this has only ever fucked me up.   In my experience, acting on inaccurate conclusions about responsibility can lead to really super duper giant-sized fuckups.   So for me, getting this right is really worth investing a good splodgey dollop of effort.
 
 

Focus – Away Vs Towards

 
Since I decline to pretend that I’m responsible for my partners’ behaviour, instead I use my partners’ pleasure as the proverbial stomach through which I establish my ownership of them.   The more consistently and reliably I care for and enrich their pleasure, the more they trust me to nurture their pleasure.   They then reinforce and reward that approach by devoting themselves more and more to me and my pleasure, which is ultimately what I want.
 

I give a big fat juicy  yay  to getting what I want.   :)

 
Furthermore, punishment in the form of unpleasant stimuli is in my experience a whole lot less effective, more work for me, and more unpleasant for both of us than using rewards to encourage desirable and beneficial behavioural changes.
 
In short, I’ve found that for my purposes, pleasure as a training device is

• much easier to use
• yields more yummier results more speedily
• much more effective than aversive reinforcement training

 
So instead of using punishment to focus on the behaviours I want to avoid, I  use reward reinforcement to focus on the behaviours I want to achieve.
 
So how does all this relate to my ethics on punishments within my partnerships?   Hang on a sec, I’m getting to that.   :)
 
 

The Punishment Package

 
So far I’ve covered my presuppositions and approaches to

• my easiest route to yumminess
• my partners’ interest in my pleasure
• the care and feeding of trust
• choices
• fuckups
• lots of responsibility stuff
• the yumminess of reward reinforcement

 
Before I get to my punishment policy, I’ve got one more thing to cover to round all this stuff up.

As I see it, the punishment package thingy comprises the following elements:

1. The existence of a fuckup
2. Person(s) knowingly being responsible for the fuckup
3. A mutual desire for change to prevent the fuckup from recurring

 
Conversely:

1. No fuckup means there’s nothing to punish
2. Unknowing responsibility for the fuckup means it was an accident and punishing will change nothing
3. No desire to change a fuckup means a punishment has no purpose

 
For me, the whole punishment package rests entirely on the sphere of responsibility, and that’s why I spent so much time on how I work that shit out.
 
Now you know my outlook, my approach, and my rationale behind my thinking, and now it’s time for the big banana.
 

*drumroll please …*

 
Welcome to the section on my punishment policy!   :)
 

I Don’t Punish.   Ever.

 
I never punish.   It’s that simple.

Given that I’ve encountered a whole lot of unpleasant side effects from punishing, I circumvent the lot of them by simply removing the whole punishment thing from my relationships altogether.   I therefore reject punishments in favour of reward training as a method to achieve my desired yumminess.
 

So  no matter how much my partner wants me to punish them, I will always decline.

 
So what do I do instead?   Ok, I was just getting to that.   :)
 
 

If No Punishment, Then What? – Resolution Strategies

 
My personal method for resolving fuckups without punishment comprises these steps in the following order:

1. explicitly, specifically, respectfully negotiating gripes and outcomes
2. temporarily disengaging from them if necessary  (only as a last resort)
3. resuming the negotiationfest as soon as possible
4. repeating the cycle of 1-3 in that order until the conflict is resolved

 
With some people  (i.e. the ones who like to pass the buck)  I find that the disengaging step only drags out and buries the conflict  (til it inevitably re-explodes later)  by giving them an excuse to wimp out of the discussion entirely.   So with them I just keep slugging away at step  1.  for however long it takes until everybody feels good about it.  

Although navigating emotive negotiation through the obstacles of personal arguments can be tricky, the procedure itself is simple, and for me it prevents re-explosions of the resolved conflicts every single time.

The  really  tricky bit is identifying the actual root of the issue of which the symptoms highlighted the conflict.   But that’s a whole other topic.
 

I appreciate that focused specific negotiation is unlikely to feature in anybody’s horniest fantasies.   Oh well.   Unfortunately, reality carries on regardless of your libido, and unfortunately your libido  (as mighty as I’m sure it is)  has no control over me.   This solution works for me, and my partners have a choice of carrying on without me or getting with the programme.

You can either choose to pay a fantasy-gratification service to indulge you, or you can participate in a relationship.   It’s your choice.

Yes, that was a mini-rant.   Can you tell I’ve had unpleasant experiences with this?

 
Unlike punishments, this method has always worked well for me by getting me what I want for the least amount of effort, and I have every reason to expect it to continue to work well for me in future.
 
So my experience continues to support my conclusion that

• actual punishments = boo
• appropriate acknowledgment and attribution of responsibility = yay
• focused negotiation = yay
• yummy outcomes = yay

 
And my long and short of it is

1. I never punish
2. I focus on reward-based training
3. I resolve problems using focused negotiation
4. that fits my needs very nicely, thank you.

That’s it.   Thank you very much for reading.   :)

ps:   I had a shitload of rants which you’ll be glad to hear I edited out in the interests of manageable readability.   I may or may not make them into a separate post.   Just so you know, this was a hugely rantworthy topic in which I restrained myself quite admirably, I think.   So I’m awarding myself a gold star for rant refrainment.   :)
 

 
Just so you know, I may possibly be offline for a few weeks.

See you when I get back.   :)
 

 
Well, it looks like the two-year anniversary of my blog came and went on 20 April without anybody noticing, including me.

Oh well.

I never envisioned any kind of time frame when I started blogging.   I suppose I thought at the time  (and still think)  that I’ll blog til I don’t want to anymore, and then I’ll stop.   I’m sure this is because of my commitment issues, with, you know, committing to anything.
 

So I’ve already been blogging for two years.   Gosh, and  yay!

 
I had already been embroiled in the throes  (well, maybe a throe and a half)  of a new project when I noticed that the two year milestone had already slipped right under my Jewish schnozz, without even a wave or a peep or anything.  

Still, I thought it was quite fitting that my new project was evolving around this timely landmark.
 
 

The Announcement

 
Because I’ve been so tangled up in my new project, I haven’t been posting here for awhile.   So I know that this announcement will be especially welcomed by those who have missed my updates here in blogland.   Now, the announcement I’m about to make isn’t actually to do with my two-year bloggy anniversary or anything.   Nevertheless, it’s a funky cool time to be making  (what I think is)  a funky cool announcement.   :)

Perhaps the best way to do this is just to show you.
 

Yes indeed, I have ventured into the world of bloggy audio, and …
I have now become a spleencaster!

 
I’ve done all of it myself, the art, the music, everything.   As you might imagine, a lot of this stuff is still work in progress, so I’m sure you’ll understand that my first offering isn’t just the super duper bestest spleencast ever.
 

That’s why I called it  The Spleen Test.

 
If you’re curious about how to publish podcasts on wordpress.com, I published a brief guide over at Spleencast Central outlining how I did it.
 
 

And Now – Some Subscribey Buttons

 
These are the spleencast-friendly Feedburner RSS feeds to zoom your spleencasts straight into your spleencatcher! :)
 

  • Audio-only mp3           • Enhanced m4a
   
    – For all podcatchers.         – For iTunes software.
                                                              – with text, images, links.

• Both formats               • Via iTunes
   
      – All audio releases.             – iTunes subscribathon.

 
 
Easy spleencatching steps:

• Right click on subscribey button
• Select “Copy Link”
• Open podcatcher of choice
• Paste link into subscribe-to-podcast
• Enjoy spleencasts

 
Welcome to the Spleen Zone.   Happy listening.   :)
 

 
I’m going to be doing some floggy workshopnesses!

If you’re free on Saturday evenings  (one each in March and April),  and would like to learn more about how to do floggage,  and  if you’d like to meet me, do please contact the very gloritudinous  Miss Clippin  who is fabulously handling all the bookings and queries:

missclippin   (at)   yahoo   (dot)   fr

 
 
On  28 March, 2009,  I will be doing my Elementary Floggage workshop in Dublin.   This workshop covers basic skills in the sensual use of the flogger, which in this case is a many tailed whip, most usually with a solid handle.   This workshop can benefit any member of the floggist community from beginner to reasonably skilled.
 
On 11 April, 2009,  I will be doing my Therapeutic Floggage workshop in Dublin.   This is a more advanced workshop drawing on techniques covered in Elementary Floggage.   This workshop is about using what I call “safe touch” and body work in conjunction with flogging to stimulate relaxation in the floggee.
 
Both workshops are going to be at the Outhouse on Capel Street, on a Saturday evening from 17:00  -  20:00.   Participants will be asked to contribute  €10  (to cover venue costs).   Both workshops have limited availability,  so  booking is really essential.

For booking essentialiness and further information, please contact the extra special administrativey-handley  Miss Clippin  at:

missclippin   (at)   yahoo   (dot)   fr
 
If you need to cancel your booking, please be sure to contact the fabulous  Miss Clippin  as soon as possible.

 
 
For more details than you probably want to know, please see the

Workshopness Linkfest page

Elementary Floggage detailfest page

Therapeutic Floggage explanatoriness page

Flogger Advicefest party page

Workshop Accessibility Stuff itemisathon page

 
 
Please be aware that the quite gloritudinous  Miss Clippin  is fabulously handing all of that scary administrative stuff, so please contact  her   (not me!)  for booking, queries, and cancellations at

missclippin   (at)   yahoo   (dot)   fr

 
 
See you there!   :)
 

 
It’s time to talk coffee.   This post is coffee-centric.   More particularly, I would like to focus on one specific coffee gadget.   And even more particularly than that, I want to focus on the Aeropress.

In addition to other delicious polycarbonate accessories which brighten up my life, the Aeropress is the single most useful coffee gadget I’ve ever had.   It’s

• inexpensive
• small
• portable
• lightweight
• durable
• runs on elbow grease and hot water
• requires minimal cleaning and maintenance
• easy and cheap to use
• makes fabulous coffee

 
 
This is my method of making one mug of Aeropress coffee.   For Aeropressing for more people, have a look down the bottom.

To be honest, I really made this guide so that kvetch could make me coffee the way I like it.   He hasn’t really got the hang of all this Aeropress business yet.

I’ll let you know how he gets on.   :)
 
 

Contentosity

• Things You Will Need
• First Things First
• Creating Your Beverage
• Extra Bits
• Storage
• Cleaning
• Making Multiple Cups
• Bean Grindage
• Healthosity And Safetyness
• Mind The Gap And Other Aeropressing Techniquathons
• Aeropress Visual Demonstratathon

Aeropressing

 
Things You Will Need
 

• Coffee beans ground for a filter machine
• A kettle, with water in it, set to boil.
• Fresh water for rinsing
• A bin for the used coffee grounds
• The Aeropress and all of its constituent parts
• funnel  (if you are grinding your own beans)
• plunger
• base
• filter screw cap
• filters
• scoop
• T-shaped stirrer

 
 
First Things First
 

1. Put the kettle on.
2. Orient the Aeropress vertically so the black perforated filter screw cap is topmost.

 

I left it like this the last time I made coffee.   Yum.
 
 

3. Carefully and gently unscrew the black filter cap counter clockwise, watching to ensure no spillage of coffee grounds (if any are present from prior use).

 


See?   Grounds.

 
 

4. If the round paper filter is outside the filter holder and stuck to the grounds, carefully remove it and set it to one side.

The Aeropress filters are perfectly suitable for many re-uses  (until they tear or perforate).
 

And the sun came out as I was doing this.   :)
 
 

5. Take the Aeropress over to the bin and invert it so that the coffee grounds are now aimed downwards.
6. Grasp the Aeropress very firmly  (your hands and the Aeropress will both need to be dry)  -  carefully push the plunger to evacuate the grounds into the bin.

The plunger can be stiff to start and can move very suddenly when dry!   Take good care to keep fingers and skin clear of being pinched between the plunger and base.
 

7. Leaving the plunger fully plunged, rinse the end of the plunger and the end of the base.
8. Separate the plunger from the base and set both pieces to one side.
9. If there was a paper filter in the Aeropress from prior use, rinse it well, and rinse the black perforated filter cap.
10. Put the wet filter  (or a new one)  in the filter cap

 


There’s the filter, and there’s the cap.

 
 

11. Screw the filter cap firmly clockwise into the base of the Aeropress.

 

My favourite mug  -  a present from kvetch.   :)
 
 
Creating Your Beverage
 

12. Ensure your mug of choice is sitting securely on a non-slip surface.
13. Orient the Aeropress vertically with the filter cap at the bottom.
14. Place the base of the Aeropress on top of the mug.

 

This is a good visual demonstration of what will happen if you use a mug which is just the teensiest smidge too small for the base of the Aeropress.   It still works, though.   Note the benefits of using a generously sized mug.
 
 

15. Fill the scoop with coffee grounds, leaving approximately 0.5cm gap at the top.

 


Fill the scoop with thiiiiiiis much.

 
 

16. Empty the scoop into the Aeropress.
• See below for making more than one cup and grinding your own beans for use with the Aeropress.

 

17. Hot water should be no warmer than approximately 85˚ centigrade.   If the kettle has just boiled, add a goodly dollop of cold water and swish it around.
18. Add hot water to the grounds in the base of the Aeropress, up to approximately 1 cm from the top.
19. Stir the water and the grounds with the T-shaped stirrer for about 10 seconds.

 

The coffee drains even when not plunging, so that is why there is more than 1 cm of space at the top in this picture.
 
 

20. Put the plunger into the top of the Aeropress and carefully yet firmly push the plunger down.
21. Push the plunger down no further than 1 cm from the grounds.

You will know when you are nearly there because the water will have emptied out and the plunger will produce a schhhhh - type sound.
 


mmmmmmmmmmschhhhhhhhh…

 
 

22. Add milk, sugar, stir, or do whatever other finishing touches you may require.

 


I like sugar in my coffee.   :)

 
 

23. Et voilá!   Slurp and enjoy!

Extra Bits

 
Storage  -  Usually, when I’ve finished making coffee, I turn the Aeropress upside down and leave it until the next time.   Because the filter and perforated filter cap both allow air to circulate, the grounds and the filter will both dry out instead of going mouldy, so the Aeropress can safely be stored like this for some time.
 

Easy storage  =  Energy saver  =  Environmentally friendly  =  Me less cranky
 
 
Cleaning  -  The rubbery foot of the plunger creates an airtight seal within the cylindrical base, resulting in syringe-like, wipe-clean properties when plunging.   Because of this, rinsing the bottom of the plunger and base after evacuating the coffee grounds, and rinsing the filter and black perforated filter cap is the sum total of cleaning required for the Aeropress.

Easy peasy.   :)

(My energy is a valuable commodity, y’know.   It’s worth saving.   You wouldn’t like it when I’m cranky.   The environment could get damaged.)
 
 
Sharing The Goodness
 
The above instructions are for making one mug of Aeropress coffee.   For more cups, simply

• Add one scoop of coffee as shown for each person
• Plunge into one receptacle
• Divide the result equally between the required number of cups
• Dilute each with hot water

 
It is possible to plunge directly into the appropriate number of cups and dilute each with hot water.   However, I find this difficult to measure out evenly, because the water continues to drain even when the plunger is not in place, or is in place without being actively depressed.   So I prefer to plunge into one receptacle when I’m Aeropressing for multiple people, and then divide everything out afterwards.
 
 
Bean Grindage
 
If you are grinding your own coffee beans, fill the scoop with beans to approximately an 0.5cm gap at the top for each person  (as with grounds),  before adding them to the coffee grinder.
 

Just pretend there’s beans in there instead of grounds, k?
 
 
Use the funnel provided with the Aeropress to empty the freshly ground coffee from the grinder into the Aeropress.
 
 
Healthosity And Safeness
 

• Take good care to keep fingers and skin clear of being pinched between the plunger and base when plunging, especially when the Aeropress is dry.   Aeropressy pinching can be very sore.   Trust me.
• A non-slip surface for your mug during Aeropressing will help drastically reduce the chances of a scalding accident.
• Ensure that you depress the plunger with both hands with your head positioned directly over the mug.   This will help dramatically reduce the chances of upsetting the mug and its scalding contents.
• Take care to keep the Aeropress on top of the mug during the pressing.   The base of the Aeropress can slip around on mugs with larger circumferences.

 
A Note To The Aeropress People  -  I think that a grippy rubber surface  (similar to that of the plunger foot)  on the underside of the flange of the base might help to improve Aeropress safety in use with larger mugs.

 
 
Mind The Gap And Other Aeropressing Techniquathons
 

• Note the gap between the end of the plunger  (the thin black ring pressing against the inside of the cylinder)  and the coffee grounds at the base of the Aeropress  (now oriented upwards).   You will know when you are nearly there because the water will have emptied out and the plunger will produce a schhhhh - type sound.

  That 1cm gap must be maintained for the best tasting coffee.   My experience is that if the grounds get squashed, the coffee will taste bitter.

 

See?   This is how I left it the last time, gap and all.
 
 

• Always unscrew the filter cap before removing the plunger from the base.   Removing the plunger is easier without the filter blocking the airflow, and anyhow such removal can damage the filter, especially when it’s wet.   The filter must be replaced if that happens.   Otherwise you will get grounds in your coffee.
• Hot water should be no warmer than approximately 85˚ centigrade.   If the kettle has just boiled, add a goodly dollop of cold water and swish it around.   My experience is that f the water is too hot, the coffee will taste bitter.
• Depress the plunger at about the same speed as with a cafetière.   Unlike a cafetière, there is no need to wait after stirring.

 

This is what it’s all about!   Slurpworthy coffee  -  just what’s needed on those days when one is feeling especially slug-like.   Mmmmmm, a delicious extra boost.
 
 

Aeropress Visual Demonstratathon

 
And now, for a quick visual bit of helpfulness.   :)
 

 
 

Time For Kvetch To Make Coffee

 
Ok kvetch, now that you know how to make my coffee the way I like it, I’d like you to go make me some!   I sure could use a pick-me-up after schlepping through this guide.

And cake.   Mmmmmm, caaaaake…

Thank you dahlink.   *mwah*   :D
 
 

Tune In For Another Thrilling Episode!

 
Next week, kvetch learns that popcorn must be shaken, not stirred.

(with a bonus extra featurette on how to salvage pans with burnt-on stuff in the bottom)
 

 
I never before thought of my strapon as something to use to get my hair cut.   But I’m beginning to consider trying it out.

But first, a bit of background.
 
 

Wooed By The Dark Side

 
Some of you might have noticed in recent months that my hair has slowly but surely been wooed and courted by The Dark Side.   Having partially succumbed to teh evil  (yet undoubtedly remaining within reach of redemption),  my hair has now been persuaded to move to the city of Toolong, on the planet known as Tattyendedness.

Because my hair is so very long, and because I spend so very much time ignoring it, I don’t have a regular hairdresser I go to.   My hair care regime most usually comprises the following elements:

• I brush it before I wash it
• I wash it whenever I can’t get away without washing it
• I get a trim once every few years

That’s it.
 
 
Anyhow, that strict, disciplined maintenance schedule has worked for me for the last … oh … well … forever.
 
 
Over the last four months or so, I’ve been sort of casually looking into getting a trim every now and again when I pass a likely looking hair place.   But the prices have been putting me right off.

I mean, for fuck’s sake, I don’t want a swanky new hairdo, I don’t want a wash, style, or blow dry.   I do want a couple of inches trimmed off, straight across the bottom.   And it doesn’t even matter to me if the result isn’t perfectly T-square-straight.   Since my hair is wavy to the point of curly, the trim won’t look perfectly straight even if it is.
 

(although I do appreciate that hair professionals are supposed to do care about doing these things properly)

No Thank You – I Don’t Want My Hair Ripped Out

 
I really, really HATE other people handling my hair.   Most people, including professional hair specialists, are not familiar with the foibles and quirks of very long hair, and as a result they usually awkwardly and thoughtlessly cause me pain when they handle it.   In practice, what this means is that a goodly amount of my hair usually gets carelessly, painfully, and unconsensually ripped from my scalp by the roots.   This can happen when hairdressers forget that:

• Long hair can be tangled round their hand without them realising, even when their hand is quite a distance from my head  -  they remain oblivious to this only until after they move too quickly, too soon  (at which point the obliviousness instantly returns  -  rinse, repeat)
• A hand isn’t the only hairdressing implement which can have hair unwittingly tangled round it  (comb, brush, hand-held hair dryer, free-standing hair dryer)  -  which they can also move too quickly, too soon  (not forgetting the inevitable return of the obliviousness afterwards)
• Long hair can irrevocably wrap around the motor of a hair dryer multiple times  -  they usually only realise this tiny detail after they attempt to take the dryer away  (inevitably too quickly, and inevitably forgetting again each and every time)
• Long hair can wrap around a comb, hairbrush, or hair dryer motor multiple times, and once it’s done that, it’s there for life  -  nobody benefits from having to sit there for hours whilst some idiot indulges themselves with futile attempts to unpick the hair from wherever it’s been carelessly allowed to permanently tangle  (how many times can this be done whilst also forgetting that it can happen?   An infinite number, apparently)

 
Any number or combination of those events invariably happens during my visit, et voilà!

1. My scalp has significantly fewer hairs in it
2. I’m protesting my unnecessary and avoidable pain for the umpteenth time
3. The hairdresser gives me a barely credible “sorry”  (also for the umpteenth time)

 
I mean, if they were that sorry, why do they keep fucking doing it??

 
So it isn’t only that I don’t  need  them to wash/dry/style my hair, I also feel very unhappy  (and reasonably cautious)  about forking over a huge wad of cash for the dubious privilege of having a significant amount of my hair ripped out.
 

I am not a masochist.

So, no thanks.

Biting The Bullet

 
So anyhow, my  (legitimate)  fear of having all my hair ripped out was finally outweighed by how fed up to the back teeth I got with having this long tatty mess getting in my way all the time.   And I started seriously looking for a place to get my trim where I wouldn’t have to fork over what I felt was a ridiculous amount of cash for the debatable privilege of having my hair unconsensually extracted in a rootly and painful fashion.

I looked into a couple of places, but they were way more expensive than I felt comfortable with.   I bitched about this to a couple of friends of mine, and one of them offered what sounded like a very good suggestion of trying a barber instead of a hairdresser.

So with that in mind, I decided to really focus on getting my hair trimmed.
 
 

Schlepping Myself All Over The Place

 
I’m not going to include a synopsis of every single hair place I tried, because that would just be more boring than… 

than a really boring thing.  

I’ve got pictures of the last seven or so places I tried, so I’ll synopsise those.   My experiences at those establishments reflect similar experiences I’ve had trying to get my hair trimmed over the last four months
 
 

 

• Freedom Hair And Beauty in a former jeweller’s premises.   £17.50 for their most basic  (mandatory)  wash, and trim.   They refused to trim unless I also allowed them to wash my hair.  

  So, moving swiftly on….

• After a companionable bitch with some friends about all this, I tried The Continental Barbers.   The resident hair professional had one customer whom he was just finishing up.   Nobody else was waiting in the otherwise empty shop.   He wouldn’t even quote me a price, simply citing the fact that I wasn’t a man  (tell me something I don’t know),  which somehow prohibited him from trimming my hair.

  This was the first instance when I considered walking into a barber’s whilst wearing my strapon, to see if that would make any difference.

• Next I tried A2K Hair.   £30.00 for their  (again, mandatory)  wash, and trim.  

  Moving onwards…

• The delightfully fruity young man at Lloyd Smith Hairdressing told me apologetically that my trim would cost £37.50 including the mandatory wash.  

  However, I did get a glass of water out of them from the water cooler, conveniently located near the door.

• A garishly circus-like paint job decorated the front of Botanic Barbers  -  The Continental II.   Again, the resident hair professional was just finishing up with one customer, with nobody else waiting in the otherwise empty shop.   Again I was refused service.  

  This time I asked if a man came in with long hair, would he cut it?  

  “It depends.” quoth he.

  Hmmm.   Thoughts of the strapon again drift through my mind.

  Upon hearing what I was looking for, the man quoted me £5.00 for the trim which he was nevertheless refusing to do on my penisless carcass.  

  Poor creature, how he must suffer every time he passes a hole in the road.

  Please note that both of the barbers I tried advertise styling and colouring as hair services they offer.   Yet neither would offer me a straightforward dry trim.

• I trundled wearily up the stairs into Hair Traffic, and explained to the sympathetic woman what I was looking for and why I was uncomfortable with allowing my hair to be washed and handled.   She asked me when I’d last washed my hair  (±20 hours ago  -  the first time I was asked this),  and she agreed to give me a dry trim by one of their younger hairdressers at the child’s rate of £9 pounds!!

  SUCCESS!!

Fuck Me

 
I must say that I am really surprised at the huge numbers of hair places to be found all round the place within such a relatively short distance of each other.   I don’t usually notice them because they’re  (usually, until now)  not what I’m looking for.   Is there really that much demand for hair professionals?

Gosh.

I’ve never documented my efforts to get a trim before.   Now that I’ve done it, I am absolutely astounded at the stupendous amount of effort involved in getting a pain-free trim.

Essentially, my issues with this whole caring-for-my-hair business turned out to be these:

• I don’t  need  them to wash/dry/style my hair
• I feel  very  unhappy about forking over a wad of cash to have my hair ripped out
• I feel  quite  unhappy about paying anybody for the privilege of instructing them how to avoid ripping my hair out
• I feel really unhappy about having my hair ripped out regardless of my careful instructions
• I feel really unhappy that the default situation for trimming my hair is that my hair will be ripped out

 
 
Points To Note
 

• I am not a masochist
• I am not a humiliation junkie
• I am not a pain junkie

 
So, no thanks, and fuck off.

 
No bloody wonder I get my hair trimmed so very infrequently.
 
 
Anyhow, if all that schleppage is what it takes to get a reasonably priced, pain-free trim around here, then I’m just going to get kvetch to do it next time.   Anything must be better than all this kerfuffleness.

And look, I didn’t even get that good of a blog post out of it!

I don’t care if my hair gets all crooked.   Next time, kvetch is doing it for me.

He’s got til 2011 to learn how.
 

 
This post is just a bit more vanilla than my usual efforts.
 

(possibly also duller, but never mind.   :)   )

 
This is also one of my more abbreviated constructions, detailing how the some of the desktop backgrounds on my 12 inch Powerbook, and subsequent 13.3 inch Macbook, represent a few adventures I’ve had.

So, now you know what’s coming.   You have been warned advised.   :)
 
 

Smithfield Square, Dublin

 
I like blue.   I like blue a lot.   And I like a lot of blue.   So I think it’s only natural that it would follow that I like having a lot of blue on my desktop.   Blue works well for me.

I used to have this picture I took of Smithfield Square as my desktop background, which I took from just outside The Cobblestone.   There’s a lot of blue in it, which is part of why I liked it.   And however annoying it may be that there’s a lorry blocking the complete view of the square, I do very much like that it’s a catering lorry.   :)
 

Smithfield Square, Dublin, with catering lorry.

 
I had this picture as my desktop image for over a year.
 
 

Capel Street, Dublin

 
Then in early July 2008, I got a new 13.3 inch Macbook, and I had this picture I’d recently taken of the northern terminus of Capel Street which I liked, so I put that up for a change.   I thought, new Macbook – new desktop image.   :)   There is a lot of blue in that one too, as you see.  
 

The northern end of Capel Street, near the junction with Parnell Street, Dublin, with Guido’s chip emporium.

 
I had this one up for about four months.
 
 

The Ha’penny Bridge, Dublin

 
And then for a little while, after taking the pictures for two recent foody posts, I had this picture I took of the Ha‘penny Bridge.   Again, lots of blue.   I really liked the idea that I had restaurants  (especially Yamamori Sushi)  on my desktop, even though I couldn’t see them very well.
 

I still knew they were there, though.   :)

The Ha’penny Bridge, Dublin, with a glimpse of two yummy fooderies.

 
I didn’t have this one up long, as pretty as it is, because of what came next…
 
 

Suuuushiiiiii

 
Since my recently documented expedition to Yamamori Sushi, I’ve now got this extravaganza of sushi up, also known as jo moriwase.   As a significant divergence from my other desktop images, there’s hardly any blue in this one at all.   Instead of blue, this image has sushi in it. which I like bucketloads more than blue.
 

If I had to choose between sushi and the colour blue?

No contest, sushi wins hands down every time.

 
This image hasn’t been on my desktop very long, and like all desktop images when they’re new, I find myself frequently clearing all my open windows just to savour it for a moment.   Aside from the difference in colour, I think the most significant difference between this image and all the others, is that I didn’t ever drool or get hungry when I looked at the others.

Now that I think about it, that feature in a desktop image could possibly be considered a flaw, or at the very least an inconvenience as far as desktop images are concerned.   I can easily imagine myself having to change that image because of too much drool and hunger and stuff when I need to concentrate on other things.

Time will tell.

Whether I leave it up or take it down, I have a feeling that it’ll be a good long time before I tire of this image.  

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.   :)
 

Sushi droolfest, with extra drool.

Update

 
I started writing this post on 25 October, 2008, although it was conceived months earlier.   Since then, I’ve gradually been looking at my desktop less and less often.   I find that when I do look at it, I can take great comfort from this image.   It reminds me on less pleasant days that the world can provide me with orgasmic, delectable comestibles.   I can look at this picture and remember that there is always something marvellous to be had, as long as I can find a sushi artiste somewhere.

So it looks like I’ll be keeping this image for awhile, since it isn’t distracting me enough to interfere with my Macbooky activities.
 

I’ll just need to ensure that I keep a hanky handy, for those moments when I might, um, like, need one when I look at it.   :)

 
After reading this post by Unspeakable Axe, I was reminded of this story, which I haven’t yet mentioned here.

And so, the mentionage.   :)
 
 

Beginningness

 
Two weeks after I first realised I was a dominant, one particular day stands out as special, and is a day which I vividly remember.
 

Up til my discovery two weeks before, I’d felt something like a bunch of pretty, somewhat useful, partially assembled pieces, all rattling around in a box.

And now I felt like the pieces had no need of the box anymore, because all of a sudden they’d joined up together to fit perfectly into a single well-formed, functionally complete machine, with all the parts elegantly and smoothly working together.

 
So I was walking down the street in my neighbourhood and feeling incredible inside.   Everything felt more intense, looked brighter, sounded richer, smelled stronger.

It was like I got a seriously expensive senses upgrade.

During this walk I was noticing that I was not only feeling different, but that people were responding to me differently.

I was walking down the street, wearing my usual jacket and jeans, alone in my thoughts.   But time and time again, I noticed men standing aside to allow me to pass, jumping to hold doors for me, and standing to attention as they did so.   I mean, that had happened before, but in nowhere near such numbers, nor with anything like as much enthusiasm.

I smiled and thanked them, and walked on.   Inside me, music swooped and soared.   I felt like my body was singing.
 
 

Today

 
Today, my body still sings.

The difference is, now I make other people’s bodies sing too.   :)
 

 
I found some more photographs of that revelicious weekend, which might be of interest to you visualists out there.   :)
 
 
Balloon Animal
 

Some people were fortunate enough to start on balloons that weren’t red  (or at least, used them in a non-inflatory capacity).

 
 
“No, It’s Not A Spleen” – Improved Version
 

It still isn’t a spleen, but it’s a much better picture of it not being a spleen.

 
 
Swanky Irvingy Night Out, With Yummyness
 

Nosy.   ;)

Mmmmmmm, pretteeeeee, and mmmmmmmmm yummy.

 
 
I very much enjoyed going over and sharing my droolfest with you.   :)

Thank you for drooling I mean,  reading.   :D
 

 
In keeping with my recent foody theme, I thought I might as well tack on a review for a restaurant kvetch and I visited for the first time a few weeks ago.   We’d been passing The Winding Stair on a fairly regular basis over the past couple of years, looking at the menu, with me thinking “Wow, that’s really kvetch’s kind of thing”, and with kvetch thinking “Wow, that’s really my kind of thing”.   The menu was pricier than we normally choose  (although not unreasonable for that kind of establishment),  and I think that alone was what kept us from trying it for so long.
 

The Winding Stair – Lower Ormond Quay – Dublin

 
I guess we’ve become accustomed to the high quality cheap eateries we normally frequent  (with one notable exception in the cheapness department).

We planned to go there on a Saturday night, and the place did look a bit swanky from what I could discover on the ole intarwebz, so  (I think this was on the Thursday evening)  I encouraged kvetch to ring and book a table.   It was just as well he did that, because they had no tables available for Saturday night.   Ultimately we got a table for the Sunday evening at 20:45, which was fine.

What with the foody bloggage I do, and what with documenting such bloggage with images, I thought I might document this expedition with some photographs in case I wanted to blog about it.   I proposed that we make a night of it, head down towards the restaurant at around sunset, take some pictures, and then go for a beverage between then and the table booking.   We enjoy a lengthy-ish dusk at these northern latitudes, and I like taking photographic advantage of the interesting light which usually falls around then.

So we duly headed down there at around 18:30-ish, and I got some gorgeous shots.   You’ve seen some of them already.   :)
 
 

Hyooooooooooge Demerit

 
Unfortunately on that evening, kvetch felt really tired, which impaired his enjoyment  (and mine)  somewhat.   He doesn’t cope well with having his sleep disturbed.  (actually, I don’t know anybody who does, do you?)
 

• Why was kvetch’s sleep disturbed, you may ask?

Well, the reason for that, as it happens, was because the restaurant had rung to confirm our booking.
 

• And why would that disturb anybody’s sleep, you may ask?

Well, since you ask, kvetch’s sleep was disturbed because the restaurant decided it would be a good idea to confirm our booking well before noon on a Sunday morning.

 
Can you believe  that?!

I consider that kind of behaviour to be a HUGE demerit for the restaurant.   Although other things about it were really positive, I just cannot overlook that kind of careless inconsideration.

Just to be clear, I am absolutely fine with confirming a booking on the day.

I am absolutely not fine with confirming a booking on the day, when that day happens to be a weekend and the confirmation is enforced unconsensually at an unreasonable hour.

I feel that they really could have waited til after noon, preferably after 13:00.   If they needed confirmation that urgently, they could have rung the night before.  
 

A more respectful procedure:
1. Advise customers at the time of booking that they prefer them to confirm their bookings closer to the time.
2. Advise customers within what time frame confirmation would be appreciated.

And then if confirmation had not been made prior to the specified deadline

3. Ring customers to confirm their booking.

I would consider a call after that to be reasonable.

 
During this outrageous early phone disturbment, the restaurant offered no reason nor apology for their unwarranted intrusion at that hour, and kvetch was too groggy to request one, having just been woken up by the phone.

In my opinion, our consent was transgressed by failing to give us the full information  (i.e. confirmation being required, and when, and the possibility of being rung before noon on a Sunday),  and by failing to give us any opportunity to decline such contact or make alternative arrangements.

I strongly disagree that simply making the booking is grounds for the restaurant assuming our consent in every single matter relating to eating in their establishment.   I have written about this before.

This may not seem important to you.   But your importance rating of this might change if  your  sleep were disrupted when you don’t sleep well or enough in the first place, and one of your rare chances to catch up and lie in is irreparably scuppered.
 

This is a health issue.

 
So our first visit to The Winding Stair was initially coloured by the restaurant having transgressed our consent.

Not a good start.
 

Winding Stair staff and future customers, please take note, and ensure that you clarify this when booking.

Pre-Dinner Recreation

 
Ok, so kvetch was uncomfortably tired, and therefore unable to serve me to his usual high standard.   And I wasn’t enjoying his company as much as I might have, and he wasn’t enjoying himself as much as he might have.

So after getting some really lovely shots, kvetch needed a coffee to perk him up a bit.   So we stopped in this coffee place that was due to close in half an hour, and kvetch got a very pretty looking coffee.
 

Pretteee coffee.

 
He was very patient whilst I took the coffee pictures, although his need for coffee did grow increasingly urgent, so that’s why I wasn’t able to take the time to get this shot just as sharp as I’d have liked.

But you get the idea anyhow.   :)

After that he felt much better  (let’s have a big cheer for coffee!!)  and we went to a nearby beveragerie called The Lotts to enjoy some refreshments and each other’s company.
 

The Lotts Bar – An enjoyable beveragerie complete with food servage.

 
We went into the more modern looking section to the right, because the older looking section clearly had some kind of sports playing on the big screen.   Although the section at the right looks much more modern on the outside than the section at the left, the inside is nicely paneled with creaky wooden floors and an assortment of traditional-looking seating.   We sat at the bar until some comfy looking benches at window tables became available.
 

And then whoooosh… we grabbed them.   :)

 
I’d found and printed out The Winding Stair dinner menu, and we perused it as we talked and drank.

We found it difficult to choose, because everything looked pretty interesting.   Having done some restauranty homework on the web in addition to getting the dinner menu, I’d read repeated and confirmed reports that the smoked haddock was the best main course on the menu, that the chips were out of this world, that the steaks were so-so, and that the portions were large.   So we decided against starters, kvetch was persuaded to choose the fish, and I chose the corned beef with horseradish mash.   We decided to add two side orders, one each of chips and salad.

I must say, perusing and drooling over a menu, with beverages, in the enjoyness of serfy socialisement, is possibly one of the most pleasurable ways to spend a Sunday evening out that I can think of.   Really, that whole evening was as pleasant and tranquil an experience as any I’ve had recently  (and not-so-recently),  and offered an opportunity kvetch and I don’t often have, of socialising, just ourselves, whilst out and about.   Usually we’re out doing the shopping or something, which isn’t really socialising.

Or else we’re out for just a meal, in which case I’m mostly too distracted by my foodal bliss to be any kind of coherent conversationalist.

Or we’re out for a kinkfest, in which case there’s always too much else going on for us to get much of a chance to enjoy each other, unfortunately.
 

Note To Self:   Spend more time enjoying socialisement with serf in non-foody environments.

There.

We Got There In The End

 
We left The Lotts at about 20 minutes to 9, as The Winding Stair was only a minute away around the corner. I took some time to get a few shots of the place.   I had difficulty getting any nicely sharp ones because of the dim light.
 

• Note To Self:   I really must remember to bring my monopod along on expeditions like this.
• Note To Self II:   I simply must remember that suitable stationary objects cannot be relied upon to be located at my convenience.
• Note To Self III:   I must remember that my camera is likely to shake without a monopod, and so I am likely to get blurry images in low light conditions when I want sharp ones.
• Note To Self IV:   I cordially invite myself to note the hell out of this at my earliest convenience, please, thank you.

 
So I was struggling to get a sharp image, and kvetch was noodging me to get a move on so we wouldn’t be late for our booking.   And I indicated to kvetch the sum total of the amount I care about being late for people who ring before noon on a Sunday.
 

(this much ==> . <== )

 
So I made do with the not-quite-sharp images I shot  (as you see above)  and headed over to dinner.
 
 

Arriving At The Winding Stair

 
Here are those gorgeous shots I took which I mentioned earlier.
 

The Ha’penny Bridge is just sooooo photogenic.

More gratuitous Ha’penny Bridge porn.   :)

The restaurant over the bookshop can be clearly seen through the upstairs windows.

 
Well, the stairs up to The Winding Stair wound windily all right.   I certainly wouldn’t recommend this restaurant to anybody with accessibility issues.
 

The Winding Stair stairs sure are windy.   Bonus extra feature at the bottom right  -  A kvetchy foot.

 
Not only were those stairs the only way in, but the loos were also only accessible via yet more stairs.   It’s a great building with a lovely lived-in feel to it, but unfortunately fairly unwelcoming to anybody with any kind of mobility difficulty.
 
 

Inside The Winding Stair

 
When we went in, I saw why it was so important to book.   The room was really small for a restaurant  -  there were maybe 15 tiny tables for two in the whole place.   The reviews on the web say the place seats 100, but I honestly cannot imagine 100 people fitting comfortably in there.   That might well be true, but I can’t confirm it.

I announced ourselves as having booked to a woman standing at the till.   She correctly identified us by name, showed us to our table, and offered to take our coats and bags.

We settled at our table, looked at the by-now-familiar menu, and placed our orders for drinks and dinner.   Our server proudly presented and discoursed about their extensive wine list, and she seemed kind of disappointed when she realised  (after some persuady insistence)  that we  really  weren’t going to have any, yes, we’re sure.

I think it was lovely that she was so enthusiastic about their winey offerings.
 

This is really a rantlet about other establishments, not The Winding Stair, but I do wish somebody would educate most Irish food workers about the importance of restraining themselves and their enthusiasm for alcohol in an (occasionally misplaced) effort to make themselves feel hospitable.

I just don’t think it’s reasonable for a customer to have to persuade a server that they don’t want something, y’know?

But again, this was not an issue we experienced with The Winding Stair.   Just another one of my wee side rantlets, ok?

Right, ok, carry on now.   :)

 
So I schlurped this kind of interesting-sounding elderflower mineral, and kvetch beveraged with a cola-type mineral.
 

I never heard of these before, but my elderflower tasted lovely.

 
The place smelled pretty good.   Perhaps not quite good enough to lure me in from the street as some other places have, but good enough to let me know that whatever we had, it was likely to be at least tolerable.

The atmosphere was a bit noisy, as one might expect from a small room with maybe 30 people in it.

The drinks preparation area was an attractive looking bar thingy, with the till at one end.
 

The bar area at The Winding Stair.

 
On the other hand, the cooking area  (always of much more interest to me)  was clearly quite limited and only visible through a small hatch in the wall.
 

The kitchen at The Winding Stair.

 
When our food came, the first thing I noticed was that their crockery seemed a rather odd choice.   Deep bowl-like plates, with huge rims, all competing for space on the tiny table.   Personally I would have chosen crockery with a more optimal space ratio of foodily-useful : non-eating-space-hoggage.   The chips and salad at least came in deeper, taller, narrower bowls with no rims on them, so that was a little more efficient use of the table area.   Eating was a bit awkward, as all the dishes seemed to constantly jostle each other and us for elbow room.
 
 

And Now For Our Feature Presentation – Foodness

 
The food, when it came  (because remember, this is what it’s all about)  looked like beautifully presented and arranged comfort food.   If I had to describe it, I’d call it
 

Traditional Fare With Flair

 
The basic ingredients were extremely traditional, varieties of meat, varieties of fish, varieties of potatoes and cabbage, all done with dollops of dairy products such as cream sauces and rich cheesy additions.   They had two uninspiring-looking  (but probably delicious)  vegetarian main courses on the menu, both of which seemed to be built around some variety of cheesy potato.

But the preparation of these traditional basic ingredients was clearly done with thoughtful care.   The ingredients themselves were plainly of the very highest quality, and cooked to perfection.   My corned beef was so tender it just fell apart when I poked it with my fork.   It seemed almost pessimistic to provide a knife.   I really could have eaten the entire meal using only a spoon.

It looked pretty too.   Two round pieces of corned beef were resting on a bed of cabbage, propped up on a pillow of horseradish mash.   The cabbage was so tasty that I just had to eat it all, even though cabbage and my digestive system have a feud going back generations.
 

(Ha!   A successful blow on behalf of the Cabbagulets.   Take that!)

 
The horseradish mash was splendidly horsradishy, much zingier than I would have expected or hoped for.   On enquiring, The Winding Stair kitchen staff told me that they prepare their own horseradish instead of buying it in pre-prepared.

I could tell.   :)

However, they didn’t corn their own beef.
 

(ah well, can’t have everything.   :)   )

 
Kvetch’s haddock dinner wasn’t much to look at, kind of like a big plate of white goo, with the white fish, white sauce, and white cheddar mash.   It kind of looked like a big bowl of amorphous pasta shapes in carbonara sauce.   But although just the  teensiest  bit overcooked for my taste, the fish was nevertheless flaky, tender and droolicious.

The chips, as reported, were absolutely out of this world.   I could have made a whole meal out of them alone.   And the salad of green leaves tossed with a plain oil and vinegar dressing, was just right.   The leaves were fresh, crunchy, and schlurpworthy, and the assorted mixture was assembled with care regarding the different tastes of the leaves.   It wasn’t like other salads I’ve had, where the assortment of leaves tended to be based on including more of the cheaper leaves and fewer of the more expensive, regardless of flavour combinations.   And the dressing was perfect, not too oily, not too vinegary.   A little less vinegar and a fresh squoosh of lemon juice might have been nice too.
 

(what can I say?   I like to customise.)

 
When I’d finished eating and drinking, aside from my other positive impressions, I was also left with a salty taste in my mouth, a little burn in my throat, and the feeling that everything had been uniformly over salted.   (between the Saltagues and the Cabbagulets, I dunno what must’ve been going on in my Digestive Arena Of Combat)   Aside from that, my overall impression was very high quality ingredients, beautifully, carefully, thoughtfully and expertly prepared and presented.
 

I think the meal would all have been pretty near perfect for me, if only I hadn’t lucked out with that special extra salt bonanza.

Pretty Foodal Pictures

 
The light was very dim, and I had  (as I said before)  no monopod with me, so it was very difficult to get any kind of usable images of our dining experience.   I couldn’t get taking a picture of kvetch’s dinner, nor of the chips or salad, but I did get this barely useable image of the uneaten portion of my dinner before I brought it home with me  (and enjoyed the next day).   What you see here is one piece of corned beef and its remaining pillow of horseradish mash, after I ate the other piece of corned beef, some of the mash, and all the cabbage.   :)
 

The Winding Stair – Corned beef with horseradish mash  (I already ate the cabbage by the time I got round to taking this).

 
This blog post has photos taken in daylight showing the small size of the tables, and the large size of the chips.   Our chips looked like theirs.   But however small the tables look in that picture, they look a whole lot smaller when we’re sitting at them with plates and glasses and stuff everywhere.
 

Mmmmmm, these chips were spectacular.

 
This photo shows Elaine facing our table next to the pole.
 

See?   Really small tables.

The Bill, Some Strangeness, And Other Bits And Pieces

Well, somebody has to pay it…

 
As you can see from the bill, the pricing structure is a bit weird.

The main courses seem a bit pricey to me, but having eaten the dishes, I don’t think those prices are much outside the reasonable range.

The drinks seem outrageously expensive at €3.25 each, whilst the chips seem ridiculously underpriced at €3.95.   I mean, I don’t think I can find a portion of chips anywhere else on this entire island nor in the UK for that price.   Especially not chips of this quality.   If I could go in there and order chips and nothing else, I might be tempted to do that every day.   :)

I’m not sure whether the pricing is adjusted to make some things dearer and some things correspondingly cheaper, but the whole thing seems just a bit strange.
 
 
Since the restaurant opened in 2006, they have obviously gained a number of awards in 2007 and 2008, which I’m sure they deserved.   :)
 

If I had that many awards, I’d put them up too.   (probably)

More awards porn.

 
And it was ever so slightly unfortunate that Sunday night would appear to have been bin night, because there was an enormous pile of, um, rather um,  fragrant  waste just at the door, which wasn’t all that pleasant to pass by whilst going in and out.
 

We were unfortunate with the bins.

 
So, I’d definitely go again, occasionally.   For me, The Winding Stair is nice for a change once in a while, and a good venue for when kvetch deserves an extra special treat  (as long as we sort out the booking confirmation call beforehand).   The excellence of the ingredients and their preparation  almost  overshadows the bonus extra salt feature.   Nevertheless, I’d like to try a lunch there sometime.

Even though I appreciate that this might be comparing apples with oranges, I just don’t kink that hard for what a lot of people call “plain cooking”.   And even though The Winding Stair cuisine is anything but plain, is clearly top class within its foody genre, and tastes lovely  (saltiness aside),  it just doesn’t do it for me in the same orgiastic ways that Japanese food does.

Whether or not Japanese food sends you into a blissful spiral of wonderfulness, I heartily recommend that you try The Winding Stair at least once.

From the most personal of gastroenterological, olfactory, and gustatory perspectives, for my money and tastes, euro for euro, The Winding Stair just can’t hold a candle to its neighbour, Yamamori Sushi.

Drool.   :)