Why I like board gaming

It can be challenging
I mostly play 'Modern Board Games' ("MBG"). MBG's are often created in the EU (primarily Germany), where family gaming is quite popular, and are often called 'Euro Games'. These games rely more on the player's skill than luck. Luck sometimes, but not always, adds an element of balancing or randomness to these games. But skill and planning are more important to win. Occasionally, I will still play a classic game, such as chess, cribbage or backgammon.

MBG's have widely varied themes and mechanics/rules. The games are complex, interesting, fun, and usually have scope for replay-ability.

Collectively my gaming group has a very large collection of games. Some games get played a lot, we often have new games added to the collection, and some get played only once or twice a year. So we are constantly learning new rule sets, and developing new strategies.

The chance element in many of the games, as well as the actions of the other players, drives one to modify strategies.

I particularly like games designed with some sort of economic element, where building some sort of beneficial generating facility plays an important part in winning. Some of my favourites are Power Grid and Agricola.

It can be just plain silly
The majority of our time is spent on playing sophisticated games, (although sometimes it seems we spend an inordinate amount of time prevaricating on what game we should play). We often spice up, or lighten up the sessions with some 'fillers' between big games. Evenings are ended (and sometimes started) with something light. Card games, kids games, silly themes, anything frequently generating a giggle, even if it was designed for someone a fraction of my age. Actually some of the modern children's games can involve sophisticated strategies.

An excuse not to drink
The standard of fellows I game with is rather high. I must have my full faculties to have even a weak chance of winning.

Fellowship
Board gaming is by it's very nature a social activity. Between and during games we comment on our lives, current events, popular culture. We make jokes and mildly tease each other. We plan special events and trips. Usually before the gaming begins, some of us share a meal together and/or carpool to the session, which is another opportunity to interact.

Interactivity, Creativity & Variety
Some hobbies, such as watching sport, actually have a very low level of real interaction for the participant, who is primarily an observer. In gaming, the participant develops strategies, makes decisions, and reacts to circumstances.

During the games there is often amusing repartee amongst the players.

Sometimes we create new games and test them with each other.

We play quite a large range of games, and many have interesting aesthetic aspects.

I don't really like computer-based games
I find video games and other computer based games really inhibit social interaction. And the prevalent themes usually involve unrealistic, yet gory, violence.

I can share my hobby with my family
Some people consider games just an activity for children. I consider games to be an opportunity for real quality time with my children, involving many of the features I described above.

Before I add a new game to my collection, or buy a game for someone else, I ask myself a few questions:

1. Did I enjoy playing this game (if I had play-tested it before)?
2. Do I think my family would enjoy playing this?
3. Is it distinct from games I already have?

Summary

It's just good clean fun that is interesting.

Gateau Basque

An intriguing recipe from this month's Australian Gourmet Traveler ('AGT') magazine. A cake filled with pastry cream.

Last week I bought a couple of copies of gourmet topic magazines ('delicious.' and AGT) to see if there are any I would be interested in subscribing to. I found that I wasn't that impressed with the content in general. An awful lot of glossy ads for things I can't afford, and don't really want. A few nice recipes, but not that many. A lot of "celebrity"personalities covered though, which again are not in my personal domain of interests.

AGT did have a focus this month on Spanish and Basque recipes, and a particular dessert caught my attention. I was also inspired to make a 'Butter Chicken Curry Paella', my own invention, which turned out OK, but not great.

The gateau didn't look that difficult, just time consuming. It proved to be a bit more tricky than I expected. Normally with a cake you make a batter, with this one you make a dough, which is then chilled and rolled, similar to a pie crust. The dough was a lot stickier than I was prepared for, and my method of rolling onto floured baking paper wasn't entirely successful. I did manage to get it into the pan about 70% intact, and then was able to repair it. The repair process was initially frustrating, with sticky fingers doing more damage than repair, until I got my hands wet, which simplified matters greatly.

Also my abysmal St George Oven was hotter than it was supposed to be. Never buy a St George Oven, they look nice, but have the worst quality. The gateau was a bit over-cooked on the bottom. It did smell wonderful though.

It ended up tasting quite nice. The mix of textures were very pleasant, and the flavors well balanced.

Grumpy Old Man - Public Performances

What is it about going to a movie, or a play, or a concert, that brings out the 50% of society that really don't give a damn about anybody else in the world?

Where do these cretins get the idea that it is OK to ruin everybody else's experience of a performance due to their own ignorance of those around them?

Small children: if you haven't trained your child(ren) to act responsibly at a public performance, don't bring them! If you do bring them, and they start to act up, be considerate of every one else and leave! It may surprise you that others don't pay for tickets to performances to experience the abysmal behaviour of your family. If you choose to stay, at the end of the performance offer to pay for the tickets of everybody else at the venue in compensation.

Mobile phones: Turn it off. It's that simple. You are not important enough to leave it on. Really, you aren't. And any call that comes in isn't a critical call. If you are waiting on a critical call, don't go out to a public performance. If you are a person who has a responsibility in society to respond to emergency requests (doctor, fire dept director, etc), you should be clever enough to know how to put your phone in silent mode. Persons in society who are specifically not holding that responsibility are businessman, politicians, and social butterflies. If you must ignore this, just offer compensation to pay for the tickets of everybody else at the venue. And giving some money to the cast would be gracious too. An important person like you can certainly afford to compensate everybody else.

Illness: If you are sick, stay home, get well and give your ticket to someone who isn't ill. Don't go out, infecting large crowds with your disease, coughing and spluttering your heart out.

Wrappers: Ladies, you know who you are. You decided to bring along that cough lollie (because you were ill), or discount candy (because you are too cheap to buy something at the candy counter). At that really quiet, emotional point of the performance you decide to open that wrapper, and in consideration of everyone else, you do it as slowly and loudly as possible so nobody will notice. Why is it I am always the one sitting in front of you? Did you ever notice that almost all of the packaging available of the items at the candy counter don't make a great deal of noise when opened? No, you didn't. If you must bring something along, use a reusable cloth container, and bring food items that aren't individually wrapped and are quiet to munch. Your neighbors, your budget, and the environment will benefit.

Personal Hygiene: If you can't be bothered to bathe, or wash your clothes properly, you shouldn't go out. Nobody want's to see you in an unclean state. This includes using public transport. It doesn't matter if your apparel has been out of fashion for 10 years, but it does if it isn't clean.

Sitting Properly: Sure, you can put your feet on the seat in front of you, as long as you pay for it, clean it after, and give some compensatory dry-cleaning funds to the persons on either side.

Litter: Nothing gives you the right to drop your cigarette butt, candy wrapper, bottle cap, straw, bottle, bag, receipt, or other item. Dispose of it properly.

Talking During the Performance: Do I really need to go into this?

Alternatives: If you can't abide by the simple, basic rules of society, don't go to a public performance, go to the football instead. At the football you can possibly engage vigorously with the other persons of a like mind, possibly reducing your impact on the gene pool.

Grumpy Old Man - Definition

I am a grumpy old man. Why, you might, or might not ask?

• Grumpy: well, that's a given. The world could be such a better place. I do my bit, but an awful lot of others don't, or even worse, they actively try to make it worse using their ignorant points of view.
• Old: At least one of my children has moved into teenagerhood. As everyone knows, any parent of a teenager is automatically 'old'.
• Man: I am male, they call me Mister, instead of Master, I am married, and over the legal age to vote for idiots, ergo, I am a man.

So that's my definition. Take it, or probably leave it.

It seemed like a good idea at the time....

Yes, the title has an ellipsis with 4 full stops. What does this mean? It means something really something is about to be something. I wanted to emphasize something. But I digress.

Before travelling to NYC, I decided that we (as in Siew Fong and I, not you and I) should take the opportunity to dine, at least once in our life, at a incredibly fancy restaurant. We had been to good restaurants, some even classed as 'fancy'. But I had never, at least by my recollection, been to a truly recognized fancy restaurant, as recognized by a biased and commercial guide such as Michelin. So I researched restaurants with at least 2 Michelin stars in NYC. The first couple I tried to reserve were closed the week we were in NYC, but 3 star 'Le Bernardin' was open, and had an open table.

It turned out that this was one of the top rated places in NYC, by Zagat, and #1 in French cuisine. The kids were left with the geriatric relatives to fend for themselves. We donned finer clothing than usual to dine. Fortunately a tie was optional.

So we had the tasting menu, with matching wines. This meant really tiny servings of incredibly good food, served impeccably by affable staff for a pile of cash. Well, not a pile of cash, but a whole lot of electronic bits that would come back to us as Amex points. I can say that it was reasonable value for money.

One of the dishes served was a crispy bread crusted black bass served with a parsnip custard. Mmmm, parsnip custard. You have no idea how fabulous this was. It was so smooth, creamy, and even, dare I say it, tasty.

It had to be done at home. I knew it had to be done.

So on our return to Sydney, I went to the local fruit and veg shoppe, and got some turnips. And now you know my terrible secret: I often confuse parsnips and turnips. Not quite the end of the world, and probably not as horrible a prospect as having a national health plan.

So it was a turnip custard to be made. I just don't do fish. Fish is expensive, and far too easy to ruin. So I picked up my favorite budget cut of meat: pork neck, from the Chinese butcher. I blended up (meaning chucked in a blender) a handful of almonds slices and walnut meats. A bit of flour, an egg, and a bunch of cream later, and I had a batter. The pork neck, sliced into steaks by the overly friendly butcher (I am reasonably confident that I am now his friend, or brother, or something), was marinated in some cranberry jam and salt. I grilled the pork until done, dredged it in the nutty batter, and gave it a quick shallow fry in some oil to crisp it up. Don't you just love to dredge stuff, it's just so, so industrial.

Good Lord! I haven't described the manufacture of the turnip (not parsnip) custard! OK, so I peeled the turnips, chopped them into tiny cubes, and chucked them onto a steamer tray above a teeny lake of water in the pressure cooker. 15 minutes of pressure cooking later, and after a bit of cooling, I removed the turnipettes to the blender (I cleaned it after the nut affair). A bit of blending, an egg, some cream, a tiny bit of salt and pepper, and then a tinier bit of allspice, and I had a proto-mousse. To the ramekins Batman! Holy ramekin in a bath of water in the oven at 200 degrees C for 30 minutes Batman!. This would have been really clever if I knew what I was doing. While it was very smooth, it was a bit coagulated.

But it tasted divine. Not parsnip divine, but divine enough.

I served it all with some couscous and steamed asparagus. The pork didn't crisp very well, but tasted nice.