This week's wrap-up; wine-based sauces.

The most important element of security, to me, is a reliable grocery store--one where you know exactly where to find the tomatoes.

Really, store-bought pasta sauces are a crock. All you need is to sautée some garlic, throw in some peppers and oregano or whatever, eighth some tomatoes, and dump in a third-cup of red wine and cook it down. Way better than Prego.

This week has been a lesson in bicycling. Specifically, not dying. The bicycles share the lanes here with taxis and buses. Now, I don't know the workings here, but it seems counterintuitive to put the bicycles with a) the largest vehicles; and b) the most aggressive, hateful, no-regard-for-safety vehicles. So, I've managed to ride into town and back safely, without dying, and even rode back at midnight the other night. Which would seem like the most dangerous, but it was really probably the safest. At midnight, once you pass the city centre, the sidewalks are empty. It made for a very nice ride.

I've been reading Angle of Repose, my mother's favorite book, every day while at Bewley's Cafe in the James Joyce room (ref. the post about how I beat James Joyce). I view it as a part of my routine. I ended up getting a job out of it, though, and I start this Saturday at 7 a.m. The building is right on Grafton Street (downtown, pedestrian only) and has two restaurants, three cafe areas, and a small theatre. And I'm in love with the waitress.

Another Dublin favorite so far is The International Bar, just near Grafton Street. While all the surrounding places have been modernized, cleaned-up, whatever, the International still has that 70s, pre-economic boom charm. They have comedy nights three or four times a week, jazz every Tuesday, this singer-songwriter night on Mondays. There's this tiny room upstairs and a lounge downstairs where the people are. Most importantly, the people I've talked to there are pretty cool. Aside from the one guy who said "Love Islam!" and made a beard motion.

Almost two weeks in Dublin and today was the first time I got rained on. I should probably tell Arthur Guinness.

p.s.: If you add parmasean (the real Reggiano stuff, not the shakey-cheese) just before you take the sauce off, it will stick to your teeth. Delightful.