I needed to go into the city centre of Dublin to pick up a few things so I took my three year old daughter along with me. For the most part she was very good and I really enjoyed the time with her. However, there was one small incident where she broke a toy and refused to say sorry to the sales person - despite my threat that there would be no snack if she didn't apologise. She held her ground.
Fortunately we were in a Christian bookshop and the sales person said that my daughter was forgiven.
Walking down the street form the bookshop I noticed a small coffee bar that seemed quite new. A couple of things struck me about the place. It was called Garibaldi which may have been in reference to the Italian military hero who was influential in bringing about a unified Italy. However it made my think of a favourite biscuit (cookie) of mine when I was young - also called Garibaldi and voted Biscuit of the Week in February 2002(!)
The other thing that struck me was seeing a fresh cream cake in the window and an almost desperate need for a cup of coffee. I quickly reneged on my threat about a snack and enjoyed a latte and cake sitting on a stool with my daughter enjoying her juice and dotty cookie.
I may in the future pay for such slap-dash parenting standards as this. But for today, I'm OK with it.
Monday, 26 November 2007
Thursday, 22 November 2007
Creme Bruleé
Purely for the sake of my blog I picked up a Creme Bruleé latte from Starbucks tonight.
Just as expected:
Yuck!
I didn't even drink a quarter of it as it got progressively sweeter and more sickly with every sip. Don't let me put you off though.
Actually, do. I've been writing about Starbucks too much lately and need to stop giving them so much free ad space.
However, you may want to experiment with the phrase 'creme bruleé', said in its intended french accent. For years this has proved a sufficient form of expletive or statement of shock with a slightly sophisticated edge to it. Try it.
Creme bruleé!
Hey, Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Our dessert of choice is going to be my wife's homemade pecan pie. Now that will go great with a regular latte.
Creme bruleé!
Just as expected:
Yuck!
I didn't even drink a quarter of it as it got progressively sweeter and more sickly with every sip. Don't let me put you off though.
Actually, do. I've been writing about Starbucks too much lately and need to stop giving them so much free ad space.
However, you may want to experiment with the phrase 'creme bruleé', said in its intended french accent. For years this has proved a sufficient form of expletive or statement of shock with a slightly sophisticated edge to it. Try it.
Creme bruleé!
Hey, Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Our dessert of choice is going to be my wife's homemade pecan pie. Now that will go great with a regular latte.
Creme bruleé!
Tuesday, 13 November 2007
Spirit of Christmas
One of the girls in our teen group mentioned on Sunday how she likes the red mugs that Starbucks bring out for Christmas. I agree.
Fairplay to the design and marketing team of the coffee chain, they do choose good colours. The promotional boards in the store, the cups for sale, the menu board and the paper cups have a red quality to them which just seems very Christmasy - even in early November. I think I would describe the colour as a deep, warm cranberry hue. The cups for take-out also come with a cardboard sleeve in a complementary mint green colour. Add to that the white lettering and I think I can hear jolly old St Nick on his way for a double espresso pick-me-up.
And along with colour change are a few changes to the menu. On offer this time of year is the return of old favourites: Gingerbread latte, Toffee nut latte, and the Eggnog latte which I experienced last year. New this year is the bizarre Creme Bruleé latte - we all know the dangers of the hot coffee lurking under the milky foam of a latte so I sure hope they don't also take a mini blowtorch to the top of this creation. I'll give it a try anyway and report back.
However, one change I noticed was decidedly against the Christmas spirit. More like Scrooge in fact. The price of drinks have gone up!! (Do red cups really cost that much more?)
As I have some readers from different parts of the world I'd like to do a quick comparison to see if this is another case of Rip Off Ireland. My tall latte cost 3 euro. I make the approximate equivalent to be:
US $4.38
UK £2.12
Forget rising oil prices. I can walk to the coffeehouse. But will I be able to afford a drink when I get there?
Please use this little experiment as an excuse to stop what you are doing right now and go out to Starbucks, bask in its redness and attempt to drink a foul sounding coffee - just make a note of the price of a tall latte while you are there, please.
Fairplay to the design and marketing team of the coffee chain, they do choose good colours. The promotional boards in the store, the cups for sale, the menu board and the paper cups have a red quality to them which just seems very Christmasy - even in early November. I think I would describe the colour as a deep, warm cranberry hue. The cups for take-out also come with a cardboard sleeve in a complementary mint green colour. Add to that the white lettering and I think I can hear jolly old St Nick on his way for a double espresso pick-me-up.
And along with colour change are a few changes to the menu. On offer this time of year is the return of old favourites: Gingerbread latte, Toffee nut latte, and the Eggnog latte which I experienced last year. New this year is the bizarre Creme Bruleé latte - we all know the dangers of the hot coffee lurking under the milky foam of a latte so I sure hope they don't also take a mini blowtorch to the top of this creation. I'll give it a try anyway and report back.
However, one change I noticed was decidedly against the Christmas spirit. More like Scrooge in fact. The price of drinks have gone up!! (Do red cups really cost that much more?)
As I have some readers from different parts of the world I'd like to do a quick comparison to see if this is another case of Rip Off Ireland. My tall latte cost 3 euro. I make the approximate equivalent to be:
US $4.38
UK £2.12
Forget rising oil prices. I can walk to the coffeehouse. But will I be able to afford a drink when I get there?
Please use this little experiment as an excuse to stop what you are doing right now and go out to Starbucks, bask in its redness and attempt to drink a foul sounding coffee - just make a note of the price of a tall latte while you are there, please.
Thursday, 8 November 2007
Where's the Passion?
I don't want you to think that I spend all day, everyday sitting in cafes listening to people's conversations, but...
What I overheard this evening grabbed my attention and for a moment - just long enough to draw in a deep breath - I felt as if God was saying, "I'm talking to you."
I started reading an excellent book by Michael Frost entitled Exiles: Living missionally in a post-Christian culture. I'm sure I will share some of the thoughts with you at some point. The author presents challenges to the reader in the context of societies that have lost connection with the Christian story (predominantly through a disconnection with Church and Christendom structures - hence the feeling of Christians living in exile). The challenge is a return to living out the radical, dangerous, loving, generous, subversive, compassionate life of Jesus.
And so this is what I overheard coming from the table across from me where four men, in their early thirties, sat talking:
"Jesus Christ....something something something....Jesus....murmur....Jesus Christ....mumble mumble....Christ."
It's funny how your ears re-tune to a particular direction when you hear the name of someone you love. I soon discovered that these guys were talking about Mel Gibson films and happened to briefly discuss his film from a couple of years ago, The Passion of the Christ. It was just after one of them gave his critique of the film that I had my moment:
"I just found it dull"
(!)
"Don't get me wrong. It wasn't the subject matter. It was the way it was portrayed."
(Deep breath)
As a follower of Jesus, what is my portrayal of the subject matter I have dared to dedicate my whole being to?
Moments later, as I thought about that question, the next track of a George Michael album played in the background - a love song dedicated to a deceased lover of the musician that echoed a tender (and yet, I suppose, still radical) nature of Jesus.
What I overheard this evening grabbed my attention and for a moment - just long enough to draw in a deep breath - I felt as if God was saying, "I'm talking to you."
I started reading an excellent book by Michael Frost entitled Exiles: Living missionally in a post-Christian culture. I'm sure I will share some of the thoughts with you at some point. The author presents challenges to the reader in the context of societies that have lost connection with the Christian story (predominantly through a disconnection with Church and Christendom structures - hence the feeling of Christians living in exile). The challenge is a return to living out the radical, dangerous, loving, generous, subversive, compassionate life of Jesus.
And so this is what I overheard coming from the table across from me where four men, in their early thirties, sat talking:
"Jesus Christ....something something something....Jesus....murmur....Jesus Christ....mumble mumble....Christ."
It's funny how your ears re-tune to a particular direction when you hear the name of someone you love. I soon discovered that these guys were talking about Mel Gibson films and happened to briefly discuss his film from a couple of years ago, The Passion of the Christ. It was just after one of them gave his critique of the film that I had my moment:
"I just found it dull"
(!)
"Don't get me wrong. It wasn't the subject matter. It was the way it was portrayed."
(Deep breath)
As a follower of Jesus, what is my portrayal of the subject matter I have dared to dedicate my whole being to?
Moments later, as I thought about that question, the next track of a George Michael album played in the background - a love song dedicated to a deceased lover of the musician that echoed a tender (and yet, I suppose, still radical) nature of Jesus.
Monday, 5 November 2007
Overheard in Starbucks
While waiting in line for some coffee, two women behind me were talking. Fortunately it was loud enough for me to hear some of it.
"I love coffee, but it makes me all shaky."
I was curious what kind of coffee she drinks and whether they serve it at Starbucks. Then the other one said,
"I don't know what's wrong with me. I feel like I'm 28."
This particularly got my attention so I leaned back a little to find out why it was so terrible to feel like someone who is 28 (quite a specific feeling, wouldn't you say?). The answer: because she is only 23!
So many thoughts went through my head...
"I love coffee, but it makes me all shaky."
I was curious what kind of coffee she drinks and whether they serve it at Starbucks. Then the other one said,
"I don't know what's wrong with me. I feel like I'm 28."
This particularly got my attention so I leaned back a little to find out why it was so terrible to feel like someone who is 28 (quite a specific feeling, wouldn't you say?). The answer: because she is only 23!
So many thoughts went through my head...
Thursday, 1 November 2007
Boy in the Window
Every morning I go through a ritual. It is not of my own choosing, but I've been doing it for a while now so I guess I'm just used to it.
Some time in the morning (usually too early) I hear one of my young children wake up. This is my cue to go downstairs, get two cups of milk, return upstairs and bring both my 18 month old son and 3 year old daughter into our room in the hope that while they drink their milk I and my wife can close our eyes for another couple of minutes. It doesn't always work.
This morning, post ritual, I lay in bed and heard my son say, "law-ee". There is always great excitement when the sound of a lorry can be heard, particularly when it is the bin lorry. The persistent cry of "law-ee, law-ee" made me get out of bed and take my son to the window where I picked him up so he could see the bins of rubbish being loaded into the lorry and watch it drive down the street.
They say that God cares about the everyday stuff of life and that, far from being a distant entity, God proved that he was actively involved in life through the person of Jesus Christ, experiencing the everyday stuff that we all experience.
This afternoon, on my way to a coffee shop to study, I walked past the meeting place of the Legion of Mary - a house named St Joseph's on a busy corner of the main road. I walk past this building most days, but today I noticed something I had not seen before. (Perhaps it has been there a while???) In one of the windows was a large statue of Joseph holding a young Jesus.
Perhaps the Marian legionaries think of this statue as providing some sort of blessing for those who pass. But today I smiled as I saw Joseph holding his boy up to the window to watch the lorries drive down the street.
Some time in the morning (usually too early) I hear one of my young children wake up. This is my cue to go downstairs, get two cups of milk, return upstairs and bring both my 18 month old son and 3 year old daughter into our room in the hope that while they drink their milk I and my wife can close our eyes for another couple of minutes. It doesn't always work.
This morning, post ritual, I lay in bed and heard my son say, "law-ee". There is always great excitement when the sound of a lorry can be heard, particularly when it is the bin lorry. The persistent cry of "law-ee, law-ee" made me get out of bed and take my son to the window where I picked him up so he could see the bins of rubbish being loaded into the lorry and watch it drive down the street.
They say that God cares about the everyday stuff of life and that, far from being a distant entity, God proved that he was actively involved in life through the person of Jesus Christ, experiencing the everyday stuff that we all experience.
This afternoon, on my way to a coffee shop to study, I walked past the meeting place of the Legion of Mary - a house named St Joseph's on a busy corner of the main road. I walk past this building most days, but today I noticed something I had not seen before. (Perhaps it has been there a while???) In one of the windows was a large statue of Joseph holding a young Jesus.
Perhaps the Marian legionaries think of this statue as providing some sort of blessing for those who pass. But today I smiled as I saw Joseph holding his boy up to the window to watch the lorries drive down the street.
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