Is There Life on Mars?!

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Peach Ripple Cheesecake

Recipe inside... 

Biscuit Base

250g digestive biscuits

90g unsalted butter

Peach Curd

2 ripe peaches

1 tbsp apricot jam

80g unsalted butter

80g caster sugar

2 eggs

seeds from 1 vanilla pod

Cheescake Filling

750g cream cheese

125g caster sugar

2 tsp lemon juice

100g soured cream

3 large eggs

Equipment

20cm springform cake tin, 7cm deep

Method

Preheat the oven to 170C or gas mark 3.

Crush the biscuits to a fine poweder in a food processero (or put them into a plastic bag and bash them with a rolling pin), then empty them into a bowl. Melt the 90g butter, then pour it over the biscuit crumbs and stir to fully coat them with the butter.

Press the biscuit mixture into the base of the cake tin, then place in the fridge to firm up while you make the filling.

Purée the fresh peaches in a blender or food processor. Add 1tbsp of apricot jam, in case the peaches are not ripe enough. In a small heavy-bottomed saucepan, melt the 80g butter. Remove from the heat and allow to cool for a while. Whisk in the 80g caster sugar and then the eggs, one by one, mixing well after each addition. Add the vanilla seeds and then stir in the peach purée and return to heat. Whisk constantly until the curd thickens and just starts to bubble. Remove from the heat and pour into a shallow dish to cool. Set aside.

In a bowl, beat together the cream cheese, 125g caster sugar and the lemon juice until creamy. Mix in the soured cream and then beat in the 3 eggs until smooth. Remove the cake tin from the fridge and spon half of the cream cheese mixture into it. Pour half of the peach curd in a layer over the cream cheese and then spoon the remaining cheese filling on top of this. Drop four separate dollops of the remaining peach curd along the border of the cake and then final spoonful in the middle. Insert a butter knife into the cake about 2.5cm deep. In one motion, zigzag the knife through the cake and the curd to form a ripple pattern. 

Bake the cheesecake, placed on a baking sheet, for 50-60 minutes, or until the filling is set (it should be firm with a slight wobble). Do not over-bake it, or ethe cake will split. 

Remove the cheesecake from the oven, to a wire rack. Run a small paring knife along the inside of the tin to release the cake. Allow the cake to cool completely before turning it out onto a serving plate. Serve at room temperature. Leftovers will keep in the fridge for up to 4 days.

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Two Boys Trailer (by englishnationalopera)

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Who are you laughing at? You are laughing at yourselves!

Nikolai Gogol, The Government Inspector 

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We need new forms of expression. We need new forms, and if we can't have them we had better have nothing.

Anton Pavlovich Chekhov, The Seagull

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Egotrippin'

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Stained glass window at cinema Světozor in Prague. 

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Interview with Tamara Rojo, The Royal Ballet principal, about her experience of performing Romeo and Juliet in front of 14,000 people at the O2.

"I wanted to do more than anything was that people going to the ballet for the first time would get the best thing ever - the closest thing to the Opera House possible. Not try to patronise them, but do the most honest and moving performance that would make them maybe question their views about what the Opera House has - and be willing to come and see other shows."

Photograph of Tamara Rojo being photographed by Tristram Kenton: The Ballet Bag 

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Cream Tea from Hobson's Patisseries at 1 Henley Street in Stratford-upon-Avon: Two beautiful fluffy scones with clotted cream, strawberry jam or lemon curd, butter and a teapot full of Lady Grey. All for £4.95. 

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Review: Oliver Peyton's British Baking

When I first arrived at Peyton & Byrne's café at the Wellcome Collection, it was love at the first sight. I did not care much, who Peyton and Byrne were, all I knew was that I loved their food. Peyton & Byrne made serious impact not only on my love life (met two of my future ex's there), my wallet and my waistline (cakes are little bit like heroin), but it also re-ignited my interest and passion for baking.

The penny dropped few months down the line, when through my passion for watching too much television I discovered BBC's 'Great British Menu'. Oliver Peyton, chain's owner, is one of the programme's judges alongside restaurateur Prue Leith and food critic Matthew Fort. At times, Peyton came across as unbearably smug and someone on YouTube remarked that 'he would make a lemon wince, if he bit into it'. Smug foodie he might be, he obviously knows what he is talking about. In the end, I still preferred Peyton's acidic demeanour to Matthew Fort churning out alliterated puns and it was the food itself that truly mattered. 

Oliver Peyton's British Baking is a beautifully presented collection of recipes. They range from simple biscuits, through cakes, tarts, pies and breakfast goods to seasonal favourites. Old time favourites like Victoria Sponge, Bakewell Tart, Bread and Butter Pudding, Bramley Apple Pie or Black Forrest Gateau are featured amongst others.Readers looking for the latest trends in baking might be disappointed, as British Baking focuses on simple puddings made from quality ingredients, showcasing years of tradition.

Each recpipe has both prep and cooking times and includes information for how long the cake will keep. The instructions are clear and detailed. Peyton also offers advice on equipment and techniques for beginners and throws in several recipes for basic ingredients like shortcrust and puff pastries, icings, strawberry jam or lemon curd.

In contrast to his on-screen bearing, Peyton's tone of writing is warm and friendly, specked with nuggets of wit and kind humour. It conveys his great passion for food and all things baked.

The book with its lavender cover adorned with a lace-like ornament is beautifully laid out. It is typeset in Gill Sans, in line with Peyton & Byrne's identity. Collin Campbell's photographs present Peyton's cakes in a homely fashion. Beautiful and humble; they are not over-styled, but still look delicious and achievable - as something you will be able to produce on your own in your kitchen. 

Oliver Peyton's British Baking is a must-have book for every enthusiastic baker and a great introduction to baking for a keen beginner. 

Published by Square Peg, £20.00. Available from Peyton & Byrne and all the good book stores. 

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Beautiful piece of eastern melancholia. 

Ryuichi Sakamoto- 'Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence' (by deccamusic)

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RomeO₂ and Juliet: The Royal Ballet at the O₂

Last week, The Royal Ballet decided to go east and present Kenneth MacMillan's Romeo and Juliet at London's 20,000-seat O₂ Arena. I had the pleasure of seeing Carlos Acosta and Tamara Rojo as Shakespeare's 'star-cross'd lovers' on Sunday, June 19. The prospect of seeing ballet in one of the UK's biggest arena was certainly enticing. But did it live up to the expectations? 

I clearly understand the rationale behind taking The Royal Ballet to the O₂. The possibility to offer more tickets at affordable prices is extension of the Royal Opera House's initiative to bring new, younger audiences into its Covent Garden auditorium. The informal setting of an arena might be a good introduction to the genre, that is unduly considered to be old-fashioned and boring. And while I would not want to be accused of elitism and artistic snobbery, the cavernous arena did not provide the ideal setting for the intimate story of the two doomed lovers.

As a student with a limited budget for cultural activities, I bought a seat for £11.25, up there with the gods on the fourth tier. Despite the presence of three large screens, the sheer distance from the stage proved to be too big a challenge for my tired eyes. The screens worked better for the solos and duets, while the populous scenes worked better on stage. The stage itself was a pared down version of the traditional Covent Garden production, which features more lavish sets. However, the orchestra (Royal Phillharmonic, conducted by Barry Wordsworth) seemingly suspended in mid-air above the stage was an unusual visual addition to the whole experience. 

Despite beautiful and emotional performances by The Royal Ballet's principals, Carlos Acosta and Tamara Rojo, the show felt rather flat in terms of atmosphere. I did not even mind the latecomers and people munching away on their overpriced hot dogs. But as a seasoned theatre-goer, I lacked the contact with the performers on stage, which somehow dampened the usual buzz and excitement of attending a live performance. 

If The Royal Ballet ever returns to the O₂, I will probably give it a miss and save my money for a ticket for a regular show in Covent Garden. Nonetheless, I hope that Romeo and Juliet introduced ballet to a broader, more diverse audience and that many of the ballet virgins, who came to the O₂ over past three days, will come again.

Photographs from the dress rehearsal: The Ballet Bag. For more pictures, click here.

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Nikolai Gogol: Government Inspector. Young Vic. Photograph: Keith Pattison.

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Review: When one and one doesn’t equal two

The Solitude of Prime Numbers became an overnight sensation, catapulting its author, a 27-year old scientist into literary stardom. Paolo Giordano has not only recently completed a doctorate in quantum physics at the University of Turin, but his debut won Italy’s most prestigious literary award, Premio Strega, was translated into 35 different languages and sold over million copies worldwide. 

                          Giordano alludes to his scientific background by using the mathematical metaphor of prime numbers – numbers that can only be divided by one and themselves, to describe the solitary heroes of his novel. Mattia and Alice are prime number twins, separated by an even number, that destines them to live two parallel lives, never touching each other. So close, but still apart... 

Alice and Mattia made a wrong decision, when they were children: she didn’t want to become a professional skier and he abandoned his mentally retarded sister in a park to avoid the likely embarrassment at a schoolmate’s birthday party. Mattia’s sister disappears forever, possibly drowning in the nearby river. Alice ends up scarred and limping, while Mattia grows into a socially inept mathematician with inclinations toward self-harming behaviour. 

The novel follows their stories from early childhood, through troubled times of adolescence to their adulthood. Giordano guides the reader through their fragile hearts and minds. Alice longs for the world to accept her, while Mattia rejects it and banishes himself into isolation. Unable to express their feelings and relate to other people, they form an unlikely, but lasting friendship.

Giordano discards the idyllic notion of carefree childhood and provides an unsettling analysis of human despair and misery. The story seems to be devoid of any happy character whatsoever. Everybody is trying to come to terms with some kind of suffocating burden of their own: homosexuality (Mattia’s schoolmate Denis), loss of past, rootlessness and assimilation into a foreign culture (Alice’s housekeeper Soledad), being unable to forgive one’s child and love it (Mattia’s mother), feeling of guilt (Alice’s father), unfulfilled paternal instincts (Alice’s boss), emotional vacuum (Nadia) and cancer (Alice’s mother). Even, Fabio, the liveliest character of them all, cannot fight the frustration and the destruction that Alice brought into their marriage. 

Some critics have accused The Solitude of Prime Numbers of being unrealistically bleak and depressive. The emptiness that spreads through the lives of the book’s antiheroes is like cancer growing inside Alice’s mother’s body. However, no one tries to do anything to stop it and turn their lives for better. You want to help these poor sods. Sometimes you feel like you want to scream in their faces to make them try and live, which turns the reading into an oddly life-affirming and meditative experience. 

The book’s language (the brilliant English translation by Shaun Whiteside) betrays writer’s scientific background. Giordano steers away from the vernacular and avoids lengthy descriptions and melodrama. His language evolves and ‘grows’ with his characters. His overall tone is very reserved for what is a contemporary novel, however it fits well with the mood of the piece.

Reading of The Solitude of Prime Numbers may leave you with a slightly bitter aftertaste, however it offers mature, captivating and memorable, albeit melancholic reading. 

- Paolo Giordano: The Solitude of Prime Numbers. Doubleday, £12.99

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Pravý, nefalšovaný, cirkul'artovský televízny spot s Táňou Pauhofovou! Pozerajte a zdieľajte! Tešíme sa na vás!

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The Royal Ballet. Not What You Think.

Amazing collage of clips showing the variety of The Royal Ballet's repertory, set to Tinie Tempah's Pass Out. 

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Glosa: O krištál'ových plesoch a perníkových chalúpkach

Posledné dva týždne som strávil na facebooku vyjadrovaním pohoršenia, ironizovaním, vtipkovaním s kamarátmi a zároveň napätým sledovaním mediálnych výstupov týkajúcich sa Krištáľového plesu Slovenského národného divadla. Moje pocity z tohto podujatia elegantne vyjadril spisovateľ Michal Hvorecký. Vďaka svojej bizarnosti a pompéznosti sa určite zaradí medzi "najväčšie úlety slovenského šoubiznisu". Krištáľový ples predznamenáva posledné záchvevy okázalej zábavy, bezbrehého obžerstva a trblietavého pozlátka pred dlhým obdobím pôstu a zároveň vydáva smutné svedectvo o stave slovenskej kultúry a prioritách našej spoločnosti...

Úvodom by bolo vhodné poznamenať, že patrím medzi bývalých zamestnancov tejto erbovej kultúrnej inštitúcie. Z SND som odišiel koncom augusta 2010. Dva roky strávané v divadle vo funkcii projektového manažéra Baletu SND, boli snáď najlepšími rokmi môjho stále mladého života. Veľa som sa naučil o divadle, o živote a spoznal som ľudí, z ktorých sa mnohí stali mojimi dobrými priateľmi. Z divadla som odišiel z vlastnej vôle, aby som sa mohol venovať štúdiu kultúrnej politiky a manažmentu umenia. Tento blog preto nepíšem z perspektívy ohrdnutého zamestnanca (ako by sa mohlo poniektorým ľudom zdať), ale z perspektívy občana, daňového poplatníka a človeka, ktorý miluje umenie a divadlo.

Slovenské národné divadlo, príspevková organizácia Ministerstva kultúry SR, ročne stojí daňových poplatníkov 16 200 000 eur (2011; približne 488 miliónov Sk). Podľa zriaďovacej listiny je poslaním SND, okrem iného, aj rozvíjanie národnej divadlenej kultúry a jej prezentácia v zahraničí, umelecká príprava a verejné predvádzanie dramatických, hudobno-dramatických a tanečných diel a vyvíjanie ďalších významných kultúrnych aktivít. Plnenie prvých dvoch, podľa môjho názoru priotritnejších, úloh v SND pokuľháva. Dôkazom toho sú napr. dve zrušené operné premiéry a nasledovná mediálna prestrelka medzi režisérom Martinom Bendikom a súčasným riaditeľom opery Petrom Dvorským. Problému zrušených premiér sa venuje aj operná kritička Michaela Mojžišová vo vynikajúcom článku "Ples na palube Titanicu" a pedagóg Vladimír Zvara vo svojom komentári pre denník SME.

Neviem, či práve obdobie finančnej krízy, drastických rozpočtových opatrení a škrtov, vládnych návrhov na rozdávanie múky a cestovín pre najchudobnejších alebo absolútnej umeleckej strnulosti a rušenia premiér (z úsporných dôvodov), je práve tým najvhodnejším na realizáciu nesporne ušľachtilých cieľov, ako je napr. "vrátiť Bratislave noblesu, dôstojnosť, ušľachtilosť, vznešenosť, zviditeľniť inteligenciu a dať do centra pozornosti skutočné osobnosti, ktoré v celospoločenskom kontexte dosiahli mimoriadne úspechy, prezentovať svet umenia, akcentovať humanitný rozmer, súčasne priniesť skutočnú radosť a zábavu".

Predstavitelia divadla rázne odmietajú, že by divadlo hradilo Krištáľový ples zo štátnych peňazí. Údajne, všetky náklady sú hradené partnermi a sponzormi. Divadlo však do tohoto partnerstva vkladá nielen svoju budovu, ale predovšetkým svojich zamestnancov, ktorí sú platení práve z peňazí daňových poplatníkov a ich primárnou činnosťou by malo byť napĺňanie umeleckého a kultúrneho poslania Slovenského národného divadla. Taktiež sa mi do úst natíska otázka, ako je možné že divadlo je schopné získať státisíce eur na jednorázovú akciu, pričom na druhej strane nevie získať peniaze na vznik kvalitných, moderných a inovatívnych inscenácií, na rozvoj pôvodnej tvorby, ktorá je tesne nad bodom mrazu alebo na hosťovania medzinárodne uznávaných sólistov do operných alebo baletných predstavení...

V predvečer Krištáľového plesu slovenský bulvár prináša podrobné opisy podávaného menu i "luxusne" zariadených priestorov, v ktorých budú tí najvyvolenejší plesať. V tomto kontexte vyznieva prianie Zdeny Studenkovej ako pomyselný pľuvanec do tváre ľudí-divákov, ktorých tak vo svojom prianí Krišťáľovemu plesu ospevuje.

Manželský pár pečúci perníkové chalúpky určite nie je cieľovou skupinou podujatia, na ktoré sa vstupenky predávajú od 100 do 700 eur. Napriek zbožným prianiam empatických tvárí z Činohry SND, Krištáľový ples nikdy nebude podujatím pre širokú verejnosť, miestom, kde sa stierajú pomyselné hranice medzi javiskom a hľadiskom. Neustále zdôrazňovanie luxusu a okázalosti a zároveň túžba približovania sa bežnému divákovi pôsobí roztrieštene, neúprimne, ba priam až schizofrenicky.

Slovenská vláda sa rozhodla bojovať proti chudobe rozdávaním múky a cestovín. Mohla by preto ku každému balíčku pribaliť aj niekoľko vstupeniek na predstavenia SND a bojovať tak aj proti chudobe duševnej.

Verím, že Slovenské národné divadlo i jeho najvyšší predstavitelia si raz uvedomia, že hospodária s prostriedkami nás všetkých. A tiež, že ich najväčším a najdôležitejším sponzorom je divák. Narozdiel od väčšiny plesajúcich si totiž vstupenky na predstavenia kupuje z vlastných peňazí. Tí druhí ich väčšinou dostávajú zadarmo, z titulu svojej celebritnej povahy, prípadne národnej dôležitosti...