Café Crem

Art, Music and Words around The Coffee Table

Pistoles de Marie Antoinette+

Since Kevin is busy working on the second part of his post I’m sure he’d love to be nibbling on these!!!
Pistoles De Marie Antoinette
Introduced by Sulpice Debauve, the royal family chemist, this range of chocolate “coins” was first developed for Queen Marie Antoinette in order to ease her distate for taking medicines. She was so delighted with them that Monsieur Debauve was commissioned to create an entire collection called the Pistoles de Marie Antoinette.

March 19, 2008 Posted by | Easter, food, health, men, Valentines | 2 Comments

The Red Leather Diary+


This is a true story and I Quote from the link to the book,

Rescued from a Dumpster on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, a discarded diary brings to life the glamorous, forgotten world of an extraordinary young woman.

For more than half a century, the red leather diary lay silent, languishing inside a steamer trunk, its worn cover crumbling into little flakes. When a cleaning sweep of a New York City apartment building brings this lost treasure to light, both the diary and its owner are given a second life.

Recovered by Lily Koppel, a young writer working at the New York Times, the journal paints a vivid picture of 1930s New York—horseback riding in Central Park, summer excursions to the Catskills, and an obsession with a famous avant-garde actress. From 1929 to 1934, not a single day’s entry is skipped.

Opening the tarnished brass lock, Koppel embarks on a journey into the past, traveling to a New York in which women of privilege meet for tea at Schrafft’s, dance at the Hotel Pennsylvania, and toast the night at El Morocco. As she turns the diary’s brittle pages, Koppel is captivated by the headstrong young woman whose intimate thoughts and emotions fill the pale blue lines. Who was this lovely ingénue who adored the works of Baudelaire and Jane Austen, who was sexually curious beyond her years, who traveled to Rome, Paris, and London?

Compelled by the hopes and heartaches captured in the pages, Koppel sets out to find the diary’s owner, her only clue the inscription on the frontispiece—”This book belongs to . . . Florence Wolfson.” A chance phone call from a private investigator leads Koppel to Florence, a ninety-year-old woman living with her husband of sixty-seven years. Reunited with her diary, Florence ventures back to the girl she once was, rediscovering a lost self that burned with artistic fervor.

Joining intimate interviews with original diary entries, Koppel reveals the world of a New York teenager obsessed with the state of her soul and her appearance, and muses on the serendipitous chain of events that returned the lost journal to its owner. Evocative and entrancing, The Red Leather Diary re-creates the romance and glitter, sophistication and promise, of 1930s New York, bringing to life the true story of a precocious young woman who dared to follow her dreams.”

Book link

Related NYT article (Registration required]

Watch the New York Times multi-media presentation here because it is fantastic!!!


March 19, 2008 Posted by | Art, books, God in our life, life, New York City, news, women, writing | 7 Comments

Saint Joseph Day at Paulo Coelho’s Blog+

Vodpod videos no longer available.

from posted with vodpod

{From Paulo Coelho’s Blog} 

Today I will be celebrating the feast of my patron saint, Joseph. Together with friends and readers (selected, as you remember, from myspace, facebook, and my blog, using their birthday month) we will take a boat in Paris, and when we are in front of Notre-Dame Cathedral, around 21:45 ( GMT + 1:00) we will read a prayer in five different languages (Portuguese, Spanish, French, English and Italian) a prayer:

Glorious St. Joseph, model of all who are devoted to labor,

obtain for me the grace

to work conscientiously by placing love of duty above my inclinations;

to gratefully and joyously deem it an honor to employ and to develop by labor

the gifts I have received from God,

to work methodically, peacefully,

in moderation and patience,

without ever shrinking from it through difficulty to work;

above all, with purity of intention and unselfishness,

having unceasingly before my eyes

the account I have to render of time lost,

talents unused, good not done,

and vain complacency in success.

St. Joseph, inspire and guide me for the time to come.

link |


March 19, 2008 Posted by | events, friends, God in our life, literature, news, travel, video | 2 Comments

A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle | world wide web cast for free+


For those of you who missed my last comment on the Video I presented and the conversation Miki and I had I posted this,

I am currently participating in a world wide web exclusive webcast called A New Earth. If you think you know who you are, or don’t, or wonder about what the ego really is then this is for you.

It’s available to watch live every Monday night or you can watch the recorded version that is posted. I am into my fourth week now and what I thought I knew about many things have been shaken to the point where I find myself saying, I don’t know who I am! But somehow as I go along I am fine with that and I am one who normally does not find these kinds of books and shows useful, but I gave it an honest try and guess what, it is really opening my mind to a lot of things.

One thing I found about myself is I was a complainer and always had to be right, but now I have learned it is good to let go of this type of thinking.

I recommend this highly and its ironic how a song brought the conversation to this.

Here’s the link:

Kindest /michael

March 19, 2008 Posted by | coffee, culture, education, events, God in our life, life, personal, video | 1 Comment

Walking the Dogma – Part 1 –


The topic of this post comes out of an entirely unrelated emergency which I shall now describe for your amusement, before coming, eventually, to my point. Trust me, there will be some religious context down the line.

It’s a long story, better told in two parts, so don’t hold your breath. think of it as a mini-series, or better yet, a bloody soap opera.

As most of you know, I am what is known in the “biz” as a frequent flyer. Bareky a couple of weeks go by without me having to go off somewhere for a gig, and when you factor in Miki and I’s nomadic lifestyle, it’s pretty hard to say where I’ll be from one day to the next. With that in mind, and my passport rapidly running towards it’s March 15th, 2008 zero hour, I had to carefully select the moment when I sent it off for renewal, and where I should ask them to send the new one. I had already established that I could apply for a new British Passport at the consulate in Madrid. I spent weeks in preparation, downloading the forms and painstakingly filling them, paying careful attention to fill in every detail. You know the sort of thing – Do you intend to use your footwear for bomb-making equipment? if no, proceed to section 5.

I went to a professional photographer who advertised a specialist service for passport photographs. I planned ahead on one of my trips to the UK, ensuring I could get my photo signed on the back by an accredited person. (mine was a civil servant, but if you want my opinion, they’re exactly the sort of people not to be trusted.) I then packaged everything up ready, and on my return from the UK on march 2nd, I popped my old passport in with the application and sent it urgently to Madrid.

We were in Turre, Almeria, when I posted it, and some days later we were wandering around the Sierras in the motorhome, miles from civilisation. my mobile indicated I had a new message….Quelle surprise! It was from the approved courier company used by the British Consulate! It read – Your new British passport has arrived at our Benidorm office. It further indicated that I should ring the number provided if I wasn’t going to be at our home in Albir to receive it. I phoned, and established i could go to their sorting office and collect my new passport at my leisure. We were returning home the following Sunday, so we made arrangements to go in Monday morning, march 17th, safe in the knowledge that I wasn’t flying until that Friday night, March 22nd.

Monday came, and we collected the package, smiling at how smoothly everything had gone, I ripped it open. Inside were a number of items, none of which were anything remotely resembling a new passport. They’d rejected my application. What part of – Your new British passport has arrived at our Benidorm office – is supposed to give me a clue then???

If they’d sent me a text saying, all your old crap and the rejected form are lying in an in tray in bendidorm, so move your arse, I might have cottoned on. And to think, we used to run an Empire with this bureaucracy. no wonder it, like my application, all went down the toilet.

I manfully struggled against the urge to destroy property as my stress levels soared. Apparently I was so stressed in those following hours, Miki was scared I would have a heart attack. I tried to gather my thoughts. I made a flurry of phone calls, but despite ordering several types of pizza, and getting and old woman threatening to call the police, I was getting nowhere, so I hit upon the idea of making several phone calls to the right people. The consulate in nearby Alicante offered me the entirely useless solution of me giving them 80 euros in exchange for a piece of paper that would get me back to England, but not allow me out again. As my flight back was on Easter Sunday, I would have no possibility to get a passport once back in England as everywhere was shut to celebrate all the religious malarkey. in the circumstances “Jesus Christ” seemed like an appropriate response to their offer. The helpline for the consulate was much more productive. It was certainly productive for Abtrans, a singularly profit-making company that “administered” the helpline on behalf of the consulate and charged the hapless caller 1.16 euros a minute to tell you how impossible your situation was. The woman suggested I should drive to Madrid and throw myself on their mercy, ringing off with a not altogether optimistic “good luck”.

It had turned out that my application had been turned down because my head was too small. yes, that’s right. My “official” passport photos had given me a measurement of 23 cms from my chin to the crown of my head. Apparently, it has to be at least 29cms. so when anybody now asks an englishman, “why the long face?” now you know. ” What’s that in your luggage sir? an AK 47? Oh, just go on through sir, at least your head is 29cms…we can’t be too careful you know.”

Although tempted to got to the original guy and rearrange his face so it measured 29cms from top to bottom, I went to another photographer. Satisfied, and clutching five horribel photos of me with an enormous head, i returned home, and had my first piece of good luck. Our neighbour is a retired nurse and a British subject to boot, so was able to sign my photo. We checked the opening times of the consulate. too late to go today. It re-opened at 8.30 a.m. the following morning. A 1,000 kilometre round trip ahead of me, I resolved to leave at 3 am that morning. I retired to bed early, stressed to the max.



March 19, 2008 Posted by | Entertainment, events, God in our life, humor, life, photography, random, religion, travel, writing | , , , , | 7 Comments