Here we go again.

My proverbial constancy is shaking.
I apologise to all those who used to read my posts (not that I think you are that many): it has been really a long time since I last felt something that resembled inspiration.

In the meantime, I have done plenty of things. I have completed (it was supposed to grant me some relevant working experience, but here I am, on the edge of a downright Unemployed Graduate's Crisis whose end I cannot actually foresee); I have spent three weeks of holiday between my overseas home and the seaside resort I used to consider as Heaven on Earth, looking for a bit of summer and finding nothing but my old friend, perpetual rain.
I have cried myself to insomnia, dreading the day I would have to step back on a plane and come back to London, because I knew what was expecting me here...and there it was, exactly as I had figured it: one month of excruciating labour, juggling between a master thesis I didn't want to write and a few weeks of house-hunting; a week of preparations for the move (which actually was one of the best things that could happen to me at that time - but hell knows how the positive changes are the ones whose effect lasts the least), and then forced passiveness. I have spent three weeks looking for jobs, without anything else to do from morning to dinner time, and it already feels like ages. Which is not reassuring at all, if I think that three weeks might actually turn into three months, three years, and then a whole life.

But I'll say no more about that: I already vented tons and tons of unrequested sadness on my friends, who certainly have better thoughts to think than me and my beginning-of-depression, and my parents, who deserve better than a whining, despondent, good-for-nothing daughter.
Things will get better; I am sure they will. I have always thought that what makes us suffer more is not our reason for suffering itself, but the fact that we don't know, and we cannot get to know, when bad times will end. And that's it, once again: not knowing when I will actually receive the invitation to the interview that will change my life for good is what really wears me out. If someone came up to me and told me "you'll get a job on that particular day" (yep, I've seen Donnie Darko, why do you ask?), I'd surely strive to enjoy the time in between as it deserves, because at least I would have the certainty that change is on its way.

Speaking about change, let's get straight to the point of this post.
I've been thinking that I maybe should give a little twist to this blog - make it a little more focused, turn it into something well-defined, rather than a simple collection of random, uneven rants by an unpleasant human being who has nothing better to do but complain (at least, not for the moment). The most interesting idea that has come up until now is to turn it into a food blog, each post having its own recipe; as I love cooking, and it is actually getting me through these days.Who knows, perhaps it could be an incentive for my proverbial constancy to come back.

But I'll be a good democrat, for once, and ask for your opinion as well.
Would you enjoy my recipes, or do you prefer the rants? I can do both, of course, multitasking is one of the main skills on my CV. So yeah, let me know. I am aware that I haven't got that many readers, but those who actually stop here and grant me a few minutes of their time are more than welcome to speak out their minds. In the meantime, here's a recipe for you; I highly recommend you try it, because it's far more than amazing, believe me.

Chocolate Truffle Torte
(as found in a huge chocolate cookbook I bought in Dublin for 3, three, euros. Call it a miracle.)

(and yeah, on the cookbook it looked much better. But if you're reading this blog, then looks shouldn't matter to you. Ha!)

Crust: 

Put 50g caster sugar and 2 eggs in a heatproof bowl set over a saucepan of simmering water. Whisk together until pale and resembling the texture of mousse. Sift in 40g flour and 25g cocoa powder, and mix gently. Pour into a greased cake tin and bake in the oven (220°) for 7-10 minutes, until risen and firm.
Transfer the crust to a wire rack to cool, and then put it back into the tin, which you will have washed and dried in the meantime. Finally, mix together 4 tablespoons strong black coffee and 2 tablespoons brandy, and brush the resulting liquid over the cake crust in the tin.

Cream:

Put 425g plain chocolate in a heatproof bowl over a saucepan of simmering water, and let it melt. Gently add the melted chocolate to 600ml whipped cream; pour the mixture over the crust, and let the cake chill in the fridge until the cream is firm.

Serve with cocoa and icing sugar sifted over the top, if you like. Et voilà!
You'll love it. I promise.

(on air: Bright Eyes - No lies, just love.)

Serotonine wanted. Urgent, call during meal hours.

I imposed myself a quite strict rule when I started this blog; no intimate confession or personal rants, it read. Still, today I have this terrible urge to write something, and anything I produce is of no use other than unleashing the gloom I have been in since the past couple of weeks.

It's just one of those moments when I'd rather have anyone around me disappear with a snap of fingers, and what I get in return is four happy-merry-drinking-buddies sitting in the kitchen, eating delicious fish and looking at my frozen pizza with pity and contempt.
Yes, frozen pizza. With a glass of tap water and an episode of Twin Peaks: tonight is's Lonely Single Night, even if I have no reason to be either of the two.
Social skills have fallen below Zero Kelvin, today; reviving them looks like an effort too big to be worthy. And, in case I forgot to mention, those people are laughing out so loud that their damn cheerfulness reaches the most remote corners of my brain - which makes me even more grumpy, as a reaction.
Well, I guess there's nothing to do about it: I'd better keep writing, if I want to avoid a chocolate overdose .

There is a lot that I have been thinking about, these days. No surprise, when what you're reflecting upon is people: something adds up everyday, and frankly, if you can manage to remember what you learnt yesterday you can consider yourself to be quite lucky.
Today, for example, I resat an exam I thought I had successfully passed long ago. That is, "how to cope with those annoying human beings who seem to be alive just to throw their happiness into your face".
I know, I know, I'm unfair. And unbalanced. And radical. After all, that's something everyone does, from time to time.
Besides, age and practice made me pretty good at telling who does it on purpose and who is just extremely, undoubtedly happy; the problem is, that I still can't figure out which of the two attitudes I hate the most. But, again, that's not what I wanted to write about in the beginning. And I see it, clearly - the risk of jumping into something too ardently biased for the time and place.

Let's turn karma around, then: I have spent the week attempting to cook - which is usually my favourite cure for the bad mood - but almost anything I tried turned rapidly into the Disaster.
So, before another Julie-Powell-like meltdown occurs (I swear, I really look like that when I fail a recipe), I'll share with you one of my past successes. Nothing special, of course, but enough to raise my self-esteem, and hopefully give you a little treat, too: ready for some biscuits?

Ingredients:
150g all-purpose flour, sifted with 1 pinch of salt;
60g butter;
50g finely chopped almonds;
50g sugar;
1 tablespoon orange zest and 2 tablespoons orange juice;
1 egg yolk, whisked;
125 g dark chocolate.

Recipe:
Mix the butter with the sifted flour and salt, until you obtain a granuloso paste.
Add the almonds, sugar and orange zest; then, add the egg yolk and orange juice.
Put the batter in the fridge, and leave it there for about 30 minutes. Then, roll it out to about 5mm of thickness and carve it out with cookie cutters.
Pre-heat the oven to 180° and bake for other 30 minutes. Let the biscuits cool down, and melt the chocolate in a double saucepan; finally, dip one half of each cookie in the chocolate melt, and leave them on a grid until the icing becomes solid.

I'm not a great fan of oranges, but I can assure you that they're lovely. Perfect with a little coffee after lunch...well, well, no more words from my part, just enjoy and let me know if you every try them. Alright?

(On air: Queen - Bohemian Rhapsody)