Frying fish and smoking CBD in Marseille

Hey Cyber Friends,

Last year, my partner and I went to Marseille for a few days. It was our first time there, and the vibe of the city was magical: anarchist graffiti everywhere, super friendly people, but also some crazy people screaming on dirty streets, beautiful sights, beautiful sites, beautiful water, plenty to see, and not THAT expensive comparing to what we’re used to in Benelux. We had a lovely Airbnb close to Le Vieux Port. It’s a beautiful location surrounded by water, cute restaurants, pubs, and a lovely port. Super dope. 

I couldn’t smoke weed because I didn’t know anyone who sells weed in Marseille, so I invaded the local CBD store. Honestly, it was really good, the prices weren’t low but they weren’t high either, and I got like 5g of some kush and it totally got me through the stay. Healthy queen tolerance break mama boots the house down. 

One time we sat at this fancy restaurant and this lovely local lady started telling us about how dirty Marseille is and why. It was truly captivating, she really went off. She started saying how people don’t give a shit anymore and just pollute the streets with their dogs’ poo, trash, and cigs. She said she’s a part of some collective that meets up a few times a month and does these collective actions to clean up the streets. She said sometimes they take chalk and encircle the poop and write next to it: it’s my owners fault. Diva behaviour. 

Her food looked so good I just ordered what she was having despite hating liver and she did say it was liver she was eating. I don’t know, I guess I wanted to test it and thought it would be fine. And everything else was great, but I just hate liver, will never get it again. But my partner enjoyed it, and the lady was super cool, so it was all still worth it.

Marseille had a lot of ups and downs, literally. There’s so many mega steep hills everywhere, it’s really a chore to get up to some places, but it’s always worth it and the view is breath taking. I was out there finding picturesque benches to smoke my CBD, it was a real pleasure except for the annoying wind that kept on extinguishing my joint. We walked up to see some churches, and a beautiful museum. It was so cool, all the mesmerising sites, all the lovely views, little restaurants, cafés, and bistros.

At one point we went to this little restaurant and there was just no menu. I had mixed feelings about it because we were both hungry and when I tried to figure out who worked there or what we could eat, the guy told me he could make us some food, some octopus’s salad, but they don’t really serve much or whatever. I was ready to go for it but then he made some comment about us getting a pizza if we’re so hungry because I think he got a bit insecure that I was confused by the lack of the menu and asking whether I can eat anything there. Either way, the place looked cool and it was probably just a coincidence and a weird situation, but somehow I felt like it wasn’t a good vibe. We went to other places that were honestly lovely. But the best part came at the very end of our stay, and it was an evening I will never forget.

The last night we were tired of walking and spending money in restaurants, so we wanted to have a nice night in before travelling back. I remembered that there’s fresh fish every morning right next to us, at the market in le Vieux Port. So in the morning I got us a couple of nice fishies, and we also got some wine, some Uncle Ben’s microwave rice, and some snacks to make our evening complete. And there I was in our tiny Airbnb, frying these fishies on a tiny pan with lots of olive oil. Honestly they came out amazing, we were so happy. We watched some dumb ass Adam Sandler movie, and went to sleep early. What a treat. 

Have you ever fried a whole fish? You should try. Send me pics, cyber friends. 

Logging out, 

Natalia

Summer Cooking

Dear Cyber Friends,

These days I’ve been staying at friends’ house in Amsterdam West. I get to walk my favourite streets of Jordan, hang around Erasmuspark, and get my 95 cent coffee everyday at Broodje Daan. With all the Turkish stores in my vicinity I can also get nice quality groceries at a lower price, and so just the other day I got inspired and decided to cook for days, enough to cover us for a while, enough for everyone, so we bask in this summer abundance.

Recently a lot has changed in my life, a lot of collapses, a lot of what’s not serving me is out. But that also means my sense of stability is a little shakier. Things are moving, I’m forced to leave them behind, to detach and find myself do it without those I once thought we’re indispensable. I see myself face myself fully, with all the shortcomings and up-and-comings, with all the beauty and the ugliness that I can exude. I’m slowly accepting myself for who I am, just the way I am, and I’m becoming capable of discerning the different between anticipating my own becoming and radical acceptance of the way things just are - at least right now. I guess to change something you have to take it in fully. OR SOMETHING.

Either way, all this is not just a metaphorical thing I feel on the inside but rather it’s backed by a lot of tangible situations, a lot of misery, and personal tragedies hitting one by one for over a year, culminating in this year’s brat summer: messy, unapologetic, unhinged, and vulnerable. Shout out to my Hungarian friend. And so, in this time of wtfness, I decided to cook. I didn’t think about this much at the time, but it was an act of grounding, provision, care, love for myself and others around me.

 

It took a while but I had a lovely time, taking breaks for a little joint in the garden here and there. I think I spent like three hours in there, just vibing. I fried some leak, red bell pepper, and onion. Took some of it out for later, and marinated the chicken in this improvised sauce, including mustard, lemon, soy sauce, olive oil, and some spices. I added it to the vegetables on the pan, and splashed it with white wine, and it all got saucy and insane. I don’t know if you add white wine to chicken, but I did and it was great. Then, I put all that in a baking dish and put it in the oven for around an hour. It was sizzling, mama. I also cooked cauliflower, and pasternak for a purée, and cooked the lentils in garlic and salt.

In the meantime, I sautéd asparagus, and carved zucchini. I think they were zucchini’s because they looked like them but they were yellow, so I’m not sure if you don’t call it squash. No clue, the right of an L2, who cares anyways. I massaged this pumpkin syrup, chilli flakes, salt, and pepper thing I made, into the carved zucchini’s and I popped them in the oven until they got a little firm. The thing with this is that you can’t carve the zucchini’s too much bc they will get gooey and soft, which kind of happened at first, but then I just put them right back in there and it came out pretty good. In the meantime, I added the inside of the zucchini to the leak/bell pepper/onion situation, and I fried it again on the pan. I also added lentils to this, and after a few minutes the staffing was ready. So I filled up the zucchini boats, added some asparagus on top, and popped them back in the oven.

I also made oven-roasted potato’s, had some lovely cherry tomatoes, and spinach - the latter I kind of forgot about, hope they use it wisely. It was all so good, especially the chicken. The kitchen is so magical in that house, it feels like cooking outdoors, with all the light, and the garden vibes permeating the whole room. It was such an uplifting experience.

The next day, when all the chicken was gone, I placed the left over potato on the bottom of the baking dish. I totally forgot about that whole purée situation because it came out okay but I already had so much going on with all this food, I decided to let it be. The next day I strained it and I added is layer of it on the potato’s. Then I added the rest of the zucchini staffing, and cut the rest of asparagus to top it. I also put in some colourful cherry tomatoes, rosemary branches for the aroma, and popped it in the oven for another (vegan this time) casserole. My friend visited and we had some, and then we had these amazing melon ice cream he brought - shoutout to my snack angel. It was so lovely, but o was tired and baked, and so we had a little meditation after that and I passed out.

All this cooking happened across two days, and for a while we had a fridge full of food. Times like this show me what really matters between people, and what I can use as an anchor when times get rough. A wise person once told me that if you’re not feeling good you should ask yourself if you’ve eaten that day, if you’ve slept, and if you’ve been outside. If any of these are not checked, you should probably try to get it done. So I’ll stick by that for now, and let’s see what happens next.

Logging out,

Natalia

P.S.: It was squash all along.

95 cent coffee mama

 Hi Cyber Friends,

Yesterday I was speaking with a friend about the Aquarian revolution. A lot of mixed feelings. On one hand, cool, may society recover, may we face what we have to face, may things get “better” - “better” for all of us together, for our highest good. But then, I wonder, how much can we take? How much has to still change, how much pain and suffering do we have to go through? 

Things get better, but then when they do, it uncovers what’s been simmering underneath all along; not just in the moment of disruption but rather all the time before its peak, the slow causality that suddenly bursts. Whether you have to face yourself, somebody else, or something else, it’s just unpleasant. You tried to keep it down all along - consciously or subconsciously jeden chuj - and here it is, and you can’t escape it. That’s the part I don’t like about all this, not just on a personal or interpersonal level, but transpersonal as well. I don’t like how much people have to suffer for things to get better. How many unpaid people fight for things to change and get nothing in return. How many people die young and broke. How many people have to die for people to put an end to wars, genocides. It’s just so overwhelming, it’s so hard to keep it together, to not allow yourself to get too low, so you can fight back, so you can resist, so you can change what you don’t stand for. 

So yeah, it’s a lot. Even on good days, it’s hard not to let the weight of the world push you down. All the moving parts are moving. And with all this, you can go to the store and get triggered over a massive line, getting late, having barely enough for a coffee, or a sandwich, or a pack of cigarettes. So you calculate all the time, you check all the time, if everything is okay. You juggle what treat you’ll have today, whether you’ll eat, drink, or sin, what is it gonna be? 

In moments like this I find that focusing on what I have rather than what I don’t helps me to go back to the present moment and find gratitude in all this chaos. And that’s what builds me up, that’s what brings me back to a state where I can give freely and from the heart, where I don’t operate from a place of fear, hurt, trauma. It’s the opposite of the triggered state: you find a note on the ground, you get a job, someone is kind to you on the street. And suddenly, it’s okay. And in that moment you know things pass because something just did, and you’re okay. 

There’s this place close to Erasmus Park in Amsterdam called Broodje Daan. It has the cheapest breakfast and lunch items I have seen in this city. You can get a proper meal for under 5 euro, most of the stuff is actually 3-4 euro. It’s a miracle. And the best part about it is that their coffee is 95 cents mama. 95 CENTS. It’s mind-boggling. Like when people talk about restaurants where you can still smoke inside. Just too good to be true. 

So today, this 95 cent coffee is my fallen angel. And in the midst of all this heaviness, it’s uplifting. And I don’t have to feel like shit that I spent 6 euro on something I didn’t really need. So I wish to you your own ray of sunlight, beam of hope, sign. Let’s all hang in there somehow. 

La Zia Maria: Coconut Cannoli, Pumpkin Ravioli, and Sopranos

 Dear Cyber Friends, 

Yesterday, my partner took me out for a date to this Italian place in Rotterdam called La Zia Maria. Zia was not there, but the food was lovely. But the owner does have a weird vibe to him, ngl. He's polite I suppose, but it seems a little backhanded and off. But it's an Italian place after all. 

The place used to be just an Italian deli, and after some time and by popular demand, they opened a little trattoria, first just for lunch service, then the whole dinner shablam. It was really warm, and I was bloated from my period, but I was all for it, so we arrived there hungry and excited to discover what was on the menu.

The vibe was really immaculate. It's a tiny place, with just a few spots outside and inside. We snatched a lovely little table outside as the sun was setting, and there was a crash on the street. Also, the dudes from the barber shop next door played music right next to you as they took ciggie breaks. It was kind of great, it all added to this busy street vibe, and the randomness of it all, and thankfully all of it wasn't annoying at all - only added to the vibe. We felt like we were in Sopranos. You might think that feeling like you're in New Jersey is not a good thing for an Italian place, but it is. It's just a different vibe. What's the difference? Okay, so, if you're sitting at an Italian place and you feel like you're in Rome, it's one thing. If you feel like it's Milan, it's another. Or Tuscany. It's all different vibes. Rome, I'd say it's a trashy and overpriced vibe, where the menu doesn't have prices but the food is kind of mid, but the staff is acting like it's the most ground-breaking spot you've ever visited. Milan, it's like sushi, coke, fashion, fusion, and vibes, NOT PASTA, more like some Italian dishes you never heard about, and it's fancy, and it's not as expensive, but it's still kind of expensive. Tuscany, it's like a family vibe, outside, sun, ceramic plates, and home-made wine, like more PAISAN, right. But then there's the non-Italian vibe of Italy outside of Italy, and New Jersey is sort of on top of this representation. And since we were there in a super not Italian setting, with Surinamese, and Turkish restaurants, barber stores, phone stores, and bars all around us, with this car crash, and these guys hanging out, it did indeed feel like Jersey. There's your answer. It might not have anything to do with the story, but it's my blog, and I'm gonna do whatever I want to set the mood. 

So we got to choose which main we wanted, and we got this board of cheese and ham for the starter. There was also some artichoke and aubergine on it, it was really nice. But it was also really hot so the cheese got as sweaty as us. Yummyyyyy. We also got some rosé, and it was a massive vibe. After we demolished the entrée, we had pumpkin ravioli in truffle sauce. They were so rich, and nice, although to my liking a little bit too sweet. My favorite part of the meal was the dessert though. 

We were so full, we asked to take one of them home and shared the other on the spot. It was this cannoli guy filled with coconut cream and sprinkled with pistachios. MAMA. First, I was like, fuck, cannoli, it's always so filling and fat. And, I guess it was, but not as much as your regular cannoli, I'd say. The coconut cream was so fresh and pleasant, with some coconut shreds and maybe even some coconut flakes, the flavor was so smooth and delightful. I loved the addition of pistachios, I'm not a huge fan of pistachios but when portioned right (according to me, which is portioned in a rather modest manner), they hit right, and they definitely hit the spot, adding a little crunch. Perfect dessert for a perfect date! 

The dinner was scheduled quite early, as we arrived there at six p.m. Our friend was gonna come visit us, and they were arriving around ten p.m. I thought it was funny because at first, we were going to leave the keys downstairs at our neighbors' place, in case we didn't come back before our friend's arrival. But then even going there we already knew that we would be back surely before ten, and we didn't even bother with the keys. In fact, right after our goodbye limoncello, we were on the tram back home around eight, heading home to watch Sopranos. Doesn't limoncello always taste like lemon dishwashing soap? Perfect evening!

Logging out,

Natalia

Things get weird

Dear Cyber Friends, 

Sometimes, it gets crazy. Things get weird. They're not what they seem anymore, and GIRL, it's so confusing. 

In these moments, I can sometimes starve myself a bit too much, not on purpose, but I just don't have much appetite. Eating and cooking when I don't have any appetite is one of my least favourite things to do. I tend to avoid it as much as possible, trying to get take-out without the risk of bankruptcy, or getting things that are ready-to-eat, like frozen pizza or Abert Heijn quiche. 

When I do try to cook during these days, it never comes out even mildly okay, it's always shit, and for some reason - I guess self-preservation and forward-thinking? - I make a massive batch of it, and I either have to throw it away instantly, or after several attempts to consume my disgusting creations. 

But you gotta eat. Even if it's shit quality, or taste, or quantity - something is better than nothing. And when you don't feel like eating, that's probably when you should try eating anyways. I feel like after a while of hunger, your stomach can just close up, and you feel like eating less and less. So, remember to stay okay, have a bite, have a snack, and if you feel like shit, ask yourself if you've eaten, drank water, and gone outside today. If any of these are not checked, just do it, just force yourself to do it. Even if you still feel like shit after, at least you tried, and it might work. 

I feel like these days can get scary. Just not eating anything at all, blazing, binging reality TV, crying. Dark days, been there done that. And it's not even entirely not enjoyable, it's so addictive. It draws you in, and you feel worse and worse, but you continue. And the longer you take to feed yourself, drink water, get some fresh air, give your brain a break from screens - the harder you will fall, the harder it will be to pick yourself back up. I think purging is good if it's the only available thing, we need to let shit out, even if it's all crazy and toxic and far from ideal. But at some point, if the purge is not sustainable at all, it will only make things worse. And you'll have even more to repair. And it will bring you (further) down. 

After such days, the sun comes out. The birds sing again. Things get better. Things pass. 

Often, I then enter a massive snack attack, and for a few days I make up for what was lost. I noticed these periods are syncing with my menstrual cycle, which is also crazy, but explains some things. I think right after my period, I'm less hungry, more wired, and this happens around the full moon. So these two weeks are usually a little crazy, the period has passed, I feel like eating spicy food, fruit, and my apetite is under control. I feel more like eating less but good quality, and I have less cravings. When I start ovulating, around the new moon, that's when I start getting famished. I want to eat everything, salty, greasy, and fatty, with a nice, fat, sweet reward(s). It only gets worse, and when I enter my period that's when my apetite gets a bit more balanced again. Weird. 

So I guess in some ways things are balanced, even if they do go to extremes. Extremes can be balanced too, they just feel extreme. 

Happy bouncing back! 

Logging out, 

Natalia

BELOVED Freddy's MAC N CHEESE in Rotterdam

Hi Cyber Friends, 

 I am totally broke these days. Long story short, I got fucked over by this dude and quit my job. Really didn't expect this to happen right now, but am I surprised? Am I shocked? No. It's the third time I'm quitting a job this Cancer season. These Capricorn full moons back to back are gonna kill me or make me stronger, mama. But I'm not dead yet.

 

Either way, this is a somewhat necessary context for this story because despite all that I decided to ORDER TAKE OUT. Freddy's is a comfort food restaurant in Rotterdam, and it's not always open, and it's not always available on Uber Eats. But yesterday it was, and since my partner and I are soon moving out of the Netherlands, I decided: FUCK IT, LET'S DO IT. We could have just order a mac n' cheese bowl each, but since this was OUR LAST TIME ORDERING TAKE OUT IN OUR BELOVED APPARTMENT AND ALSO GETTING THIS SPECIFIC, DELISCIOUS ASS MAC N' CHEESE, I decided to go overboard. And over 40 euros later, we were awaiting our bowls, our waffle fries, and kimchi chicken tenders. Mmmmmmmm.........

And mmmmmm..... IT WAS. There's just something about this mac n' cheese that I don't find anywhere else. It's obviously greasy as fuck, super heavy, but to be honest I've had much heavier and greassier mac n'cheese bowls. It's creamy, it's nice, the flavour is cheesy but very nicely spiced. I feel a little mustard in there, but correct me if I'm wrong. It has some green onion on top, and most importantly crispy chicken bits. They break apart like smoked salmon OR SOMETHING. And then they get mixed up in the maccaroni, and sauce, and the green onion, it's sooooo good. The waffle fries were also pretty great, and the kimchi-honey-covered chicken tenders were lovely, but I over-ordered a little. We will have it all for lunch today, mniam, mniam, mniam. Although I must say, it is the sort of meal you want to have after smoking at least two fat joints.

It warms my heart to write about this because this mac n' cheese has gotten me out of really sad moments in life. As my ultimate comfort food - nasty, wrong, filling, salty as hell, deliscious, fatty, satisfying - this specific bowl of mac n' cheese at Freddy's proved too be my go-to in really dark times. I have lived in the Netherlands on and off since 2018, but most recently I moved back in 2022. We've been here for two years, supposedly for me to finish my degree. I did finish some courses, but school proved not to be my main priority yet again. It was a dark time, a lot of family bullshit happened, I started a new form of therapy, fell into a really bad depressive episode, broke my hand in rage, had a few months long recovery time. Things got messy, things got hard. And in the worst moments I'd tell myself: fuck it, let's order mac n' cheese. And in these tiny moments, I felt okay. I felt fed. I didn't have to cook or feel bad someone's cooking for me. Yes, I probably over-spent ordering all these bowls. But in these moments that was what had to be done. And I don't regret a single time. 

 Logging out, 

 Natalia 

 P.S.:This is an AI-generated image of my mac n' cheese dreams:

To my Cyber Friends...

 Hi Cyber Friends, 

Maybe out of desperation, maybe because I'm living my dream reality - I decided to start this blog today. In an attempt to expand my inexisitng copywriting portfolio, I will post here about two things I love the most: food and weed. I suppose many love food and weed, and many also write about it, but I'm pretty sure I will add my own little je ne sais quoi to it, as I rise from the ashes like the industry-leading phoenix that I am. So without further ado, let's begin. 

My love for food started when I was born. From that first need for mother's milk, I knew I was a major Snack Enthusiast. My mother said I was sucking her tits like a vampire - no wonder, I was hungry for life. Later on, I found myself to be a rather carnivorous creature, always emptying the ham on my toast, leaving the bread and butter behind for someone else to give a shit. But that did not last long. As I grew into a child, I became an omnivorous queen, emptying any plate on my way. Polish grandmas loved me because I always ate their smoked meats, paszteciki, boczek - I was the perfect Polish child. But my parents felt themselves before the 2008 crisis and would feed me what in Poland at the time was considered the top shelf delicacies: shrimps, dim sum, lobster bisque... One may say I've been an experienced foodie from day one. So here are my credentials: exquisite taste, unshakable palate, open mind. 

My love for weed started when I was 16 years old. Can't say it was from the first hit, as the first time I smoked I almost fainted. For the longest time I thought weed was a dangerous drug, and if anyone told me they've tried it I'd freak the fuck out. But eventually, I too wanted to laugh like people in the movies in my tiny miserable little life, and so I went to a park with bunch of friends and did it. It's funny because I attempted to do it for over a year at that point, but it did not work out in so many ways... But I guess that's for another post... Anyways, I smoked and I laughed but I got light-headed, and I did this challenge not to eat sugar for a few months, so I kept on spitting out candy that my friends tried to stuff my mouth with so I don't bad trip. Shortly after that, I tried to smoke some more, and this time it definitely worked. But I did get caught by my parents and for the whole summer, I didn't blaze at all, thinking that these glorious days were far behind me. To my surprise, when I changed schools that year, freshly after I turned 17, my entire year turned out to be a bunch of stoners, and so there I was, back in the industry. I smoked often ever since, never looking back, or maybe sometimes looking back, but that's also for another post... The things I have done. The things I have seen. The beautiful places I smoked. The trashy places I smoked. With over 10 years of experience, I can assure you, I am your next weed expert. 

As an occasional treat, I will post about my love for Sims 2, and the mysterious town I made in it called Heathcliff. I know you're dying to know who inhabits my funky commune, so, of course, I will share all that with you when the time comes. 

 

So there it is, cyber people. If you love food, or weed, or Sims 2, or all of it, you're in the right place. So sit back, and enjoy this crazy ride I call MY LIFE.

Logging out, 

Natalia