Friday Peace

My favorite time of the week is Friday, 8:15PM to 9PM when Eitan finishes swim practice. I drop the boy off at the Putney pool then go for a run on the Thames towpath crossing the river at the Hammersmith Bridge then scooting along the north side including my favorite quarter-mile bend at Fulham where old maples provide cover over the embankment. I thread my way through several council estates and luxury condos, by pubs, a tennis grounds and grassy parks; I pass the River Cafe, one of London's finest restaurants, and the Fulham football stadium. Putney is home to several rowing clubs and a downward slope offers water access- this is where the Oxford-Cambridge race begins. While there are always people - joggers, cyclists, couples or gossiping teenagers smoking fags on a park bench - there are also long stretches of serenity. The late sunset allows me to finish well before dark and afterwards I watch Eitan lap away. I bring an extra Lacoste and towel+my blackberry so I can read the gossips or write emails. Then home, a drink, and late dinner with Sonnet.

In its natural state, the Thames would have been very different - a shallow, meandering stream flowing through a wide bed of river gravels below Richmond Hill not far from us. Following summer storms and winter rains this area would easily flood. Torrents of water would fill the river, spilling across an extensive floodplain of marsh, reed bed and swamp extending inland for many miles. It is believed that a series of 'falls' or rapids were present at Teddington, Glover's Ait and Isleworth.

As human habitation spread, the Thames slowly changed. Wetlands were drained and the river corridor was 'canalised' or narrowed to allow navigation to take place. This caused the tide to extend much further upstream than was natural. Agriculture thrived on the rich soils and more recently large areas of the floodplain were built on. As the river changed wildlife slowly adapted to these artificial environments finding new niches to thrive in. Today, although almost entirely man-made, the river corridor provides some of the best environments in London for a wide diversity of wildlife to flourish.

Pancakes And The River Café

Our Sunday morning so far: Sonnet up at 0620h to wrestle the kids from bed and swimming practice. Myself, I awake an hour or so later to make coffee and a run with Rusty, who resists for all his life (strangers in the park look at me kinda funny as I drag the unwilling pooch). Rusty supposed to enjoy these things I thought. Sonnet makes pancakes etc. and I read the Sunday Times which I have come to enjoy though a poor comparison to the NYT. Last night we join friends at the River Cafe, which has become our favorite; The RC our first "serious" restaurant in London back in '97.

"The River Café specializes in Italian cuisine and owned and run by chef Ruth Rogers and until early 2010, Rose Gray. Located on the north bank of the Thames in Hammersmith in the former Duckhams oil storage facility modified by architect Lord Rogers, the husband of Ruth Rogers (Lady Rogers). Opened in 1987 as the employee café of the architectural partnership, there is a garden with views of the River Thames.

River Café brought to London the flavours of Italian home cooking with an emphasis on the finest ingredients, and an all-Italian wine list. The restaurant also brought to London a modern, open-plan kitchen and dining room with a buzzy atmosphere. "Sourcing, sourcing, sourcing" is the mantra of Rogers and Gray. Menus are tweaked constantly (sometimes twice a day) to respond to the seasons and what is best in the market, with simplicity the key. Signature dishes include: wild mushroom risotto; Dover sole (which I have last night) and John Dory smoked in the restaurant's own wood stove; and rich Italian desserts including lemon almond cake or the chocolate "Nemesis" cake.

The restaurant earned a Michelin star in 1988 and is critically acclaimed, although sometimes criticised for high pricing.

"

--Wiki

Buddy

Buddy Cianci was the mayor of Providence, Rhode Island, from 1974 to '84, just before I arrived for college. Mayor, that is, until the Providence Journal reported Cianci and the Chief of Police tortured a fellow for having an affair with Cianci's wife. Specifically, cigarettes were ground into the dude's back and genitalia. So imagine my surprise when Cianci ran for a second term in '91 and won in a landslide. His slogan: "I never stopped caring about Providence" and perhaps that was so: the city entered a renaissance uncovering the US's largest cement bridge exposing a .. beautiful river; redesigning the down-town train station and opening the city centre to green-space, wooing the Providence Bruins from Maine. New hotels, shopping malls, an ice skating rink.. Providence became an alternative to Boston and a whole lot better than Philadelphia. Artists moved in followed by the gays and then young families. Even tourists sniffed about looking for authenticity. And the zoo.

When I was at Brown I could see the city changing - and I should know since I painted most of College Hill (52 houses in the summer of '87). Cianci connected like nobody's business into Federal Hill, the Italian blue collar community which defined city life. My favorite - and first legitimate -Italian restaurant Raphael's on Vine Street. I took Michelle there for a date and felt like an adult; later my family celebrated my graduation here with then-girlfriend Elise and Roger... Federal Hill otherwise infamous for its mob, who had wired every hotel and building in the neighborhood for the penny rackets (Providence remains gambling free somehow). I was warned about the rough side during my college interview and Cianci made it true.

I knew Buddy from Olivers Bar, an off-campus dive popular with Brown students who were rarely carted (Rhode Island also enjoyed a "grandfather clause" which meant that we under-21s could still drink though drinking age bumped from 18 to 21. There was a time when this the only thing we talked about). So Buddy loved Olivers where he could hook an arm on the bar and surround himself with the Ivy League. And college girls. He also favored the wrong-side-of-the tracks Fox Point restaurant Cafe at Brooke's where I washed dishes when not painting or swimming the summer following Freshman year. Cafe at Brook's owned by three corrupt Jewish brothers Jake, Nate and Saul who also owned the house I lived in. They were scumbags and a lot of coke moved through their restaurant. They still owe me my security deposit, fuckers. Cafe at Brooke's hired super-fine waitresses who I flirted with shamelessly with Joe, the RISD Chef who had never cooked before the Cafe. It was by far the most fun I have ever enjoyed on the job. And again Buddy, who grunted his recognition whenever around me.

So no surprise when Cianci indicted in 2001 on federal criminal charges of racketeering, conspiracy, extortion, witness tampering, and mail fraud. It is in his blood - he wants to be a wise guy. The Judge said of the case: "Clearly, there is a feeling in city government in Providence that corruption is tolerated. In this mayor's two administrations, there has been more corruption in the City of Providence than in the history of this state." Because Cianci faced a jury of his peers, he was acquitted of 26 of 27 charges but found guilty of racketeering conspiracy which put him in the slammer for five years. Worse, it forced him, by law, to give up the mayorship.

And, now that his time served, guess who is back to politics? Our man Buddy. The elections coming, after all, and Providence whispering come to me, Buddy. Come.

Providence loves this guy. Providence is this guy. Cianci has a tomato sauce, "Mayor's Own Marina Sauce" whose proceeds go to public schools. He has a talk radio show; he has made numerous cameo and spoof television appearances. He is type-casting from America's favorite Italian family, the Sopranos, years before HBO. We have not seen the end of him yet, no sir.

"There's no retiring from this."

--Tony Soprano

Red Pepper

Katie and I join David at the River Cafe. David's firm, Macro Advisory Partners, advises clients on geopolitical risk, macro intelligence and investment strategy and is going great guns. Mona Sutphen, former White House Deputy Chief of Staff, recently joined as a partner.

Sonnet working on the installation for The Italians.  Her book is now on Amazon.

Date Night

My gal

I dash home, bike a loop of Richmond Park, make a few phone calls then dart out the door to meet Sonnet at the Tate Britain - date night. Following the exhibition we go to our favorite, The River Cafe which, amazingly, has a table for two available, just for us (our first time at the RC was 1997 which stimulates a certain amount of .. reflection).

The kids have an evening home without activities other than homework. A rare thing. I suggest Eitan use the time to read a book (eye roll) or to bed early (open protest). Madeleine needs no urging on either - she puts herself to bed 8:30PM sharp, no fuss about it. Smart kid, she knows the importance of sleep.

On a dull day in the news (thank goodness) the BBC reports that a giant dangerous newt possibly roamed the earth in the dinosaur era. The story in the newsloop.

Early days

Here's Eitan at less then three months. From the start he has been a happy personality and pleasure, including his big smiles which instantly bond him to us and, more pragmatically, to Sonnet's boob.

Last night we have dinner at the River Cafe in Hammersmith and one of London's finest. The restaurant, adored by foodies of all shapes and sizes, was opened by Chefs Rose Grey and Ruth Rogers, and has trained up many culinary stars most famously Jaimie Oliver. We join friends Dave and Tabitha Claydon for a four course Italian meal - the food is as simple and unpretentious as Italian should be, with great kicks of lemon, parmesan, tomato or chili. Tabitha and Sonnet became friends around babies in North London, and our paths nearly crossed at Columbia where Tabatha was a TA for Jimmy Rogers popular class on value-investing. Jimmy and Tabitha travelled together on a pair of BMW motorcycle, visiting 180 countries in their trek to establish a spot in the Guinness Book of World Records, which they did. Rogers wrote a book, "The Investment Biker," which can be found on most MBA book shelves, though I don't have one. Today, Tabitha and Dave have three children, a house in St John's Wood, and a country home in Bath where Sonnet and I have visited with the children on a number of warm occasions.

The Fonz

Now I love France. I speak French. I have two Paris funds (Rothschild and Astorg) and visit maybe ten times a year. I, like many French, am impressed by the hard-driving, reform-pushing President Sarkozy not least because he's the son of a Hungarian immigrant father, was raised alone in France by his mother and is Jewish. Further, Sarkozy seems impatient and direct and above-boards - qualities that the pompous ass Jacques Chirac had and lost or never had.

So it is with regret that Sarkozy's popularity has plummeted and he is known in France as "President Bling-Bling."

And why the change, Dear Reader? It is one thing to divorce your wife for a younger model but entirely another to rub your neighbor's face in it - which is, of course, what he did marrying Carla Bruni. Sarkozy is often seen in flash clothes at the trendiest restaurants in the 8th arrondisement wearing an enormous Rolex and aviator Ray Bans. He grants interviews in his jogging shorts and sends text messages during top level meetings. Plus his famous temper - he has been known to storm out of a press conference.

The French, you see, are the most stylish and reserved people in the world when we exclude the Italians. Sarkozy's sartorial yoof is out-of-step with his country and the campaign image from only last year.

And how is he viewed across the channel? Well, the Queen - who Sarkozy and his slapper Bruni shall meet this month - is a tad, ahem, expectant. She presumes royalty and may get Steve McQueen. Fleet Street loves the match-up affair and for myself, I no-doubt await my subscription to Tattler and Hello. Viva la France !

Sonnet and I sneak out to lunch at the River Cafe to celebrate today, Tuesday.

Sunday Catch Up

Madeleine hides behind the coach. Eitan fixates on Manchester United vs. Manchester City. Sonnet tidies up the kitchen and I blog. Yep, Sunday evening.

It follows a busy day, too : Eitan's Elm Grove draw 1-1 against Kingstonian Youth then we drive madly across Southwest London to join Sonnet and Madeleine at the Surrey swimming championships qualifier.  Eitan picks up the 200m freestyle (2:32) and 50m freestyle (32.36) and Madeleine competes the 200m freestyle in 3:46 and competes in 50m backstroke, 50m breast stroke, 50m freestyle (times to come). Even the dog gets a run in, I am happy to oblige. 

Thursday night sees us at The River Cafe, with Jim and Peri then Bath for Tabitha and David's 12th night party which is a well-oiled machine from the excellent wine to Swedish meatballs. The guests are always entertaining and Sonnet and I stay at Claridges, a local B&B where we have been before.

Man U > Man City, 3-2

Black Death

Me: "You won't believe what I learned."
Eitan, Madeleine:
Me: "First, who can tell me what the plague was?"
Eitan: "It was when disease was passed from people by the fleas on rats."
Madeleine: "There were two plagues. One of them was a blood plague, which is when you cough blood until you die. The other plague, right before the London Fire, so that would be 1666, made your nose, ears, toes and fingers fall off. And your eyeballs would bleed."
Me: "Good stuff. Anyway, you know how they built a new cafe at Palewell Park?  Well, during the excavations they found skulls and skeletons. They believe it was a plague dump."
Eitan: "What's a plague dump?"
Me: "When people died during the plague they chucked them on a barge and brought them up-river to Mortlake then took them to a pit in Palewell Park where they would dissolve the bodies with lye.
Eitan, Madeleine:
Me: "Still want to play football there?"
Madeleine: "Yeah. What's the big deal?"
Me: "Fair enough I guess."

Dad's note: The Great Plague from 1664 to 1666 was the last major epidemic of the bubonic plague in England. It happened during the centuries-long period of the Second Pandemic, an extended period of intermittent bubonic plague epidemics which began in Europe in 1347, the first year of the "Black Death" and lasted until 1750. The Great Plague killed an estimated 100,000 people, about 20% of London's population. Bubonic plague is transmitted through the bite of an infected flea. The 1654–1666 epidemic was on a far smaller scale than the earlier "Black Death" pandemic; it was remembered afterwards as the "great" plague only because it was the last widespread outbreak of bubonic plague in England during the four-hundred-year timespan of the Second Pandemic.
Source: London City Museum
Photo: Wellcome Trust Library

Blood Red

Nanny calls in sick yesterday so I pick up the kids from school and eventually take Eitan to swim team at St Paul's. Madeleine and I go for an autumnal walk by the Thames nearby the Hammersmith Bridge ("no dad!"). As the tide is in, the river something to behold. She and I get a treat at a nearby cafe and I do my best to entertain her but sometimes I fail; she is in a reflective mood and craddles her head in her arms. From there - we pick up the boy and get pizza and finally bed around 9PM.

This morning begins with Madeleine swimming at the Bank of England club; while she swims Eitan and I footie so I get some excercise. Then two more hours of football and I watch shivering. Madeleine slips on cement thanks to her cleats and tears roll, oh boy. She finds a walking stick which she dramatically uses to get around the house: "thank goodness I have my stick" she adds. Both now watch a vid of the winter play and giggle at themselves and their friends. Madeleine has requested a visit to the toy store to chose her Halloween costume while Eitan contemplates fake-blood: "I'm gonna get some."

"I'm so bored I can't even move . . . "
Madeleine

tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap... (Eitan kicks the ball inside the house) tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap . .. .