Istanbul attack

I am neither fear, nor courage, I am not my fears or beliefs, I am not the movements of my thoughts, I am not the emotions I live. I am not Istanbul, I am not Brussels, I am not I am not Paris, I am not Tel Aviv, I am not a Muslim, I am not a Christian, I am not the sum of the clothes I am wearing or I could ever wear, no matter how clean, no matter how dirty. I cannot identify with what I eat, nor with what I drink.
The source of the evil that we bring to the world is ignorance strengthened by the belief that we are a particular SOMETHING, defined by the ephemeral, the perishable, something that must be defended at all costs, defended with my life, your life, our children’s lives. The Ataturk airport bombing in Istanbul confirms all that, yet again, but we obviously refuse to see it and yet again we turn into our emotions. I pray for Life, because that is all I am, that is all I recognize, that is all I can confirm.

Marian Godină, an #outofthekitchen policeman

I met Marian Godină via a Facebook post, one that made me laugh myself into a fit. It was then I told myself that it’s really cool that a Romanian policeman can find himself free enough to tell stories from behind the uniform scenes and I was happy about it. I knew the system was pretty messed up, and still is, despite our efforts to open up. But, in the end, systems are made of people, and in the case of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, several Godinăs would mean more hope. I think there already are several Godinăs, and I believe this single example will make other people step out of their shells. Speaking of shells, beyond writing, Marian Godină is like a Galapagos turtle, with a very thick armor. I suggest you take a look at what I managed to get out of him when we saw each other at the Romexpo book fair. You can leave in the comments questions for a future interview. Thank you.

It’s all about the team

A good chef is like a magician, in the sense that if you wake up one morning in his studio, he makes you an omelette and you disappear. A great chef, on the other hand, although able to perform the magic omelette trick, won’t rely on it when it comes to feeding people in an organized fashion. Under these circumstances, he will look to gather around him a team which he’d persuade to act as a single organism. Work in the kitchen is a never-ending team building exercise. The chefs that get that manage to serve good food on time. The others, even if they are brilliant, burn fast and alone, as meteors. Today I feel like thanking all the chefs I worked with since 1998 onwards. I bow to you.

Life makes it, life Brexit

The Brits voted themselves out the European Union. If we were to dig deep, we’d realize they voted to not be afraid anymore. One can’t judge or blame fear. The call for fear to act as a break or as a propeller is not up to the mind. I keep noticing the anxious reactions around me, but I can’t join in the anxiety. I realized that nobody can avoid the experiences they must live and everything is necessary at some level so that learning takes place. Now it’s our time to learn.

Camino, home away from home

Camino Home is a building comprising of a few chic apartments, tastefully decorated and imbibed in the ‘I wish I’d never have to leave’ vibe. It branched out from the Camino bistro, where I dutifully report I was working before leaving for the great big world. Here’s where I live most times I visit Cluj for work, because I enjoy the atmosphere, because I’m inspired and because I’m in the city center, on Iuliu Maniu, halfway on the street connecting the Orthodox cathedral to the Saint Michael church. If you are keen on finding out more, here are the details.

Moise Guran gives up TV

The days when I prepare for my show Medium Rare on Europa FM I go to the radio station, I sit on an armchair in the hallway and I start writing. Almost without exception, Moise Guran shows up, and he tries to persuade me the armchair in the hallway is for guests, not for the team, and in order to give up on it easier, he offers me a place in his office. Sometimes I accept, but only because he is very convincing, and because I hope to hear him say things about things. Moise is one of the few Romanian journalists that still deserves that title. I’m not judging the others, but I wouldn’t give up my armchair in the hallway for one of their stories.
Moise Guran is giving up his show on Digi 24. He even says why on his Facebook page: ‘ To a new generation, let’s call it the bizi generation, the generation who already abandoned TV or will do it the following years, will be the next to succeed doing in Romania things which previous generation perhaps already failed in. That’s the generation I’m after.’
He makes sense. I know very well that I got into television too late to become fascinated with it, that’s why I trust Moise and I feel he made the right choice. Regarding Moise’s new plans, read here. About giving up the Biziday show on TV, read here.
Good luck, Moise. Thank you for the office. I’ll enjoy it again, in the fall.

Cosmin Tudoran is #outofthekitchen

My small phone interview project showcases a larger-than-life character, my pal Cosmin Tudoran. I think it’s best to watch the whole thing, especially if you want to see me after a couple of glasses of Verdejo. Or whatever the count. We had fun, but we also found out how one (two) of my favorite places in Bucharest,Tasting Room by Ethic Wine, came into existence.

Todo cambia

Mercedes Sosa has a song titled just that, Todo cambia. Everything changes. I can remember my first attempt at moving to Bucharest, at the end of the 90’s. Back then, I had bought myself a multi-pocket vest from a newspaper on the ground on Lipscani street. I used to find Bucharest’s old center exotic and frightening. Today it’s just as frightening, but for other reasons. More than half the buildings are in ruins, and most that are left are still ruins, but painted over. Still, good things are happening. New buildings start popping up replacing the old dumps, the light keeps shining from around the corners. In 10 years, the last trace of favela may disappear from the city center. These reflections, and others good for those feeling harassed by the changes in the Old Town, the actual inhabitants of the area, happened in a split second, upon gazing at the Sun for the first time today, from my workshop window. It was 6:20 a.m. Todo cambia.


Among my homeland mountains, there’s this place where I got to revisit my childhood. At 8 in the morning, I picked my child up and we went hunting for edible boletus. The rosemary is from our host’s garden. The flavour is from God’s factory. The flavour factory, of course. That’s fine and dandy, but I’m starting to yearn for things. Maybe that’s not a bad thing either.


Future is already here. I felt it with all my being when I drove a BMWi8 for the first time. It was the kind of experience it’s better to keep quiet about so that you don’t ruin it, that’s why I won’t attempt any description. If you ever get the chance to test drive, postpone everything on your agenda for the day.