Thursday, 9 February 2012 -26 Luleå

I Wake up to minus 29 deg C. Wind still and a eerie maroon light over the frozen sea.  I need to write a business plan, in fact I have to write two. The mountain and the to do list has just got steeper and longer. Now if I worked for BP (dread the thought), there would be someone in total symbiosis with me so that a plan could be written by mental power alone. Here the organisation consists of me and the dog. So the reality is that I have to write it. Suck.. but on the other hand a business plan is a road map and we all know how important they are, even if they have been replaced by GPS.

We also started drilling

 

The Russians with their high pressure and cold front are certainly creating havoc in Scandinavia and Europe, most likely Mr Putin is at the controls, well in fact he very well could be because the Russians just bored into the Vostoksea yesterday, so we thought we'd have a go as well.
It took them twenty years, mind you but another dastardly plan afoot I fear. 

Now this is not Falu Korv, but elk in a giant wok.

My goal since Thailand has been for a 1000 words a day –aka Stephen King and A Memoir of The Craft- it's sort of holding up. 
Yesterday I wrote about the Falu Korv.. In fact it was a chapter from Tales of The Tundra about a character called Hasse Blom. Strange how you can start at one point and end up at another. 


The Falu sausage is not exactly exactly high end molecular gastronomy, but it plays an important part in Swedish “husmanskost”. It’s just a bit difficult to put words on how it tastes. I mean who would eat something that has a consistency of Pedigree Chum, smells like a bats arm pit and leaves a metallic taste on the top of your mouth – similar to eating  tin foil that wrapped your Toblerone.

Some guys are made for this weather

I once in desperation to enhance the bland colour of the Falu cassoulet I was making I added blueberry juice. It wasn’t a great success, but the dish was forged into the memory of my children, who gallantly eat the dish, -despite it being the colour of the Atlantic on a winter’s night -but always bring it up in conversations about my culinary experiments..

I normally write a Diary every day, its a way of reatining a sort of sanity, this is part of it and instead of putting it in the bottom drawer, I’ll publish and be dammed, while my thoughts go to warmer climes. Some god news yesterday that the food series has had a green light for development money, so the coconut trees might not be that far away.