Entry tags:

food, grammar nazi, kamikaze cookery, luvviedom, personal life, you had to be there

One of my first acts on moving into Apocalypse Laboratories' new headquarters was to accidentally break one of stormsearch's favourite glasses. Her German ex-flatmate gave them to her some years ago; they're engraved with the name of the German ex-flatmate's family vineyard. They're also just the right shape to do sterling service as whisky glasses, until I shipped a boxload of proper Glencairn glasses up with me this week.

Eager to do penance for my glass-breaking ways, I contacted the vineyard, hoping that my German and my Google-fu were strong enough to find the right one. It turns out that German ex-flatmate is the official translator of blundering English emails to the vineyard, and that I am remembered five years on:

You moved in together??? That's wonderful. Your nightly kitchen-fights are a legend! Do you still love to argue over how to prepare the potatoes? This improved my vocabulary enormously.

Yup, that's the right one.

In the original German (if I may apply the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis for a moment), nightly kitchen-fights is nächtlichen Küche-Kämpfe, which is going to be the name of my rock band. German is a brilliant language for making things sound awesome.

I should point out that legendary kitchen-fighting in a similar vein was once filmed for posterity. Ah, memories.