LII – Love Is a Traitor With Sharp Claws

I shall always keep the lovely Ninon’s words in my heart. Evermore.

Original text is here.

Do read all her letters, they are a superb insight into the mind of the greatest courtesan to have ever lived in the 17th century!

–

Yes, indeed, Marquis, it is due to my friendship, it is due to my counsel that the Countess owes the tranquility she begins to enjoy, and I cannot conceive the chagrin that causes the indifference she manifests for you.  I am very far, however, from desiring to complain of you; your grief springs from a wounded vanity.

Men are very unjust – they expect a woman always to consider them as objects interesting to them, while they, in abandoning a woman, do not ordinarily omit anything that will express their disdain.  Of what importance to you is the hatred or love of a person whom you do not love?  Tell me that.  Your jealousy of the little Duke is so unreasonable that I burst out laughing when I learned it.  Is it not quite simple, altogether natural, that a woman should console herself for your loss, by listening to a man who knows the value of her heart better than you?  By what right, if you please, do you venture to take exceptions to it?  You must admit that Madame de Sévigné was right – you have a foolish heart, my poor Marquis.

In spite of all that, the part you wish me to play in the matter appears to me to be exceedingly agreeable.  I can understand how nice it would be to aid you in your plan of vengeance against an unfaithful woman.  Though it should be only through rancor or the oddity of the thing, we must love each other.  But all such comedies turn out badly generally.  Love is a traitor, who scratches us when we play with him.

So, Marquis, keep your heart, I am very scrupulous about interfering with so precious an association.  Moreover, I am so disgusted with the staleness of men, that henceforth I desire them only as friends.  There is always a bone to pick with a lover.  I am beginning to understand the value of rest, and I wish to enjoy it.  I will return to this, however.  It would be very strange if you take the notion that you need consolation, and that my situation exacts the same succor because the Marquis has departed on his embassy.  Undeceive yourself, my friends suffice me, and, if you wish to remain among their number, at least do not think of saying any more gallant things to me, otherwise.

Adieu, Marquis.

Rhapsody on a Windy Night

Because T. S. Eliot is wonderful… thanks Wildstar for reminding me of this poem.

–
Twelve o’clock.
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
Whispering lunar incantations
Dissolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations,
Its divisions and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
Midnight shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.

Half-past one,
The street lamp sputtered,
The street lamp muttered,
The street lamp said, “Regard that woman
Who hesitates towards you in the light of the door
Which opens on her like a grin.
You see the border of her dress
Is torn and stained with sand,
And you see the corner of her eye
Twists like a crooked pin.”

The memory throws up high and dry
A crowd of twisted things;
A twisted branch upon the beach
Eaten smooth, and polished
As if the world gave up
The secret of its skeleton,
Stiff and white.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the strength has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.

Half-past two,
The street lamp said,
“Remark the cat which flattens itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.”
So the hand of a child, automatic,
Slipped out and pocketed a toy that was running along the quay.
I could see nothing behind that child’s eye.
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one afternoon in a pool,
An old crab with barnacles on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.

Half-past three,
The lamp sputtered,
The lamp muttered in the dark.

The lamp hummed:
“Regard the moon,
La lune ne garde aucune rancune,
She winks a feeble eye,
She smiles into corners.
She smoothes the hair of the grass.
The moon has lost her memory.
A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone
With all the old nocturnal smells
That cross and cross across her brain.”
The reminiscence comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets,
And female smells in shuttered rooms,
And cigarettes in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars.”

The lamp said,
“Four o’clock,
Here is the number on the door.
Memory!
You have the key,
The little lamp spreads a ring on the stair,
Mount.
The bed is open; the tooth-brush hangs on the wall,
Put your shoes at the door, sleep, prepare for life.”

The last twist of the knife.

Lazy Chai

Okay… now chai in the English vernacular is really short for “chai masala” (spiced tea) but we’ll move on out calling it “chai” even though all it means is tea.

What I will describe is my somewhat haphazard way of making spiced tea, Indian style. Want to make chai at home, it’s actually *easy*! Just needs a little preparation and you can always make this tasty treat easily and quickly.

Yep. Easy peasy. Do not buy crappy mixes, there’s no need for them and their quality sucks. Plus as I am a coeliac, I worry that they often contain mystery aromas and fillers that aren’t gluten free, so I can only guarantee my tea is healthy if I made it myself.

Ingredients:

Use a teapot! I use the more modern varieties – they’re easier. Just a normal glass teapot! (but the fancy ones work just fine too) No need for anything fancy.

Teabags for loose tea or metal tea filters you can suspend in the teapot – you need *two* filters, so don’t use the gold filter or built in tea infuser that came with your teapot for this – unless you just use it for the tea portion.

a mortar and pestle for grinding your spices. Doesn’t need to be anything fancy. I have a little marble one that does the trick.

Your favourite loose tea: green, oolong or black – or a mix of any or all – and yeah, get the good stuff, loose tea from a good tea shoppe. It’s worth it, trust me. Chai with green tea is Kashmiri – traditional is using gunpowder tea but be experimental! Assam teas are traditional for black tea chai, but you can use any loose tea you like. Be experimental, you can even use flavoured teas. I love citrus flavoured teas particularly for this.

Whole cardamom (green), whole cinnamon and whole cloves to taste. Be careful with cinnamon – real cinnamon sticks should be easily broken with your fingers. If its thick and tough, its cassia bark which is not as good.

Whole black pepper – use a pepper grinder and grind it yourself, or you can crack it with the mortar and pestle with your other spices

some thin slices of whole ginger root (if you prefer, you can leave it out)

Milk – about a quarter of the tea fluid needs to be milk, but use milk to taste. You can as well use a milk replacer if you are lactose intolerant. Can also use coconut or rice milk as a substitute. (coconut is *nice* if you like the coconut flavor in your tea) Avoid soy milk – bleh, not tasty. You can experiment with a blend of milk and cream if you are unconcerned about cholesterol, but normal milk, even low-fat milk, suffices fine.

Sugar to taste – I use raspadura (or rapadura) – chai is much better sweetened with raspadura, jaggery or sucanat. All different names for the same thing – unprocessed evaporated sugar cane juice. It is *not* raw sugar – this sort of sugar is light brown and powdery, or comes in a brown block that you shave off. Not crystalline sugar at all. But you can use normal sugar or turbanado. I’m just a finicky kitteh. Plus evaporated cane juice is much healthier – more mineral salts and a good dose of riboflavin (vitamin B2), which is absent in processed sugar of various varieties.

Please use real sugar whatever you do. But I’ll forgive ya if you have to use a sugar replacer, just be careful about taste. Artificial sweeteners can leave bitterness in the tea which is sometimes objectionable. Chai Masala is traditionally a sweetened milk and spice tea, so bear that in mind.

Method:

Heat milk to steaming. I generally do this in the microwave. Use a microwave safe vessel, and zap it till its hot and steaming but not boiling. Heat up your water in an electric water cooker to the boil … or you can zap the water in the microwave as well, your choice. I like water cookers, they are fast and efficient and get their energy via electricity, which is good in an office environment. But you could as well use a tea kettle on the stove, too.

Grind your dry spices in the mortar and pestle. I measure nothing  – throw in a few whole cardamoms, three or four cloves, half to a whole cinnamon stick. Grind in some pepper to taste or throw in a black peppercorn or two in the mortar. Crush it coarsely – no need for precision here. Just break it up so it will diffuse its flavours in the tea. Put it in a teabag, and top them off with the slice of ginger root (optional).

Put amount of tea leaves desired for the tea in the *other* tea bag, by itself. Separate from the spices, that’s important.

Hang both teabags in your teapot.

Pour in the steaming milk over them, and the sugar to taste while your water is coming to the boil. It is important to do the milk and sugar first. Let the tea and spice bags steep in the milk and sugar for some minutes before putting the water in. (this is why you do this first, while the water is getting itself ready)

Then, pour over the boiling water and let this steep together. Pull out the teabag with the *tea* after it has brewed long enough. (this depends on the type of tea you have used) Leave in the spice bag, no need to ever take that out of your tea. (or do so when you feel that your tea is spicy enough – I like the spicy so I leave it in)

Done. It’s nicer if you have let the spices stay in at least 6-7 minutes or so, but experiment to taste. The spices infuse over time, so the longer they are in, the spicier the tea. You can make this sort of chai fairly quickly from start to finish – about 15 minutes, which is what I love most about it.