Category Archives for Mushrooms

The wrecking ball swings at Moscow – a photo essay

A mass demolition of Russias iconic Khrushchevka apartments will leave 2 million people with no choice about their next home. So why did so many approve it?

Moscow is enduring one of its periodic urban convulsions: plumes of dust fill the air, cranes proliferate across the skyline and the street are soundtracked by pneumatic drills. In the city centre, new parks, infrastructure and freshly decorated historical monuments are the most visible signs of renewal. But there is another, less visible reconstruction programme going on- and one that is startling in its scale.

In June this year, the Moscow Duma unanimously approved the demolition of more than 4,000 apartment blocks in various sites across the sprawling city, home to virtually 2 million people. Most of this housing is privately owned, the consequence of the privatisation of state housing after the collapse of the Soviet Union. It has been a highly controversial decision, bringing thousands of Muscovites into the streets in protest.

The prototype


Yulia Fedosova and her son, Maxim, live in a typical five-storey concrete-panel apartment block. Known as a Khrushchevka, after the Soviet leader who orchestrated the industrialisation of house-building, Nikita Khrushchev, it first appeared in 1956 in an experimental housing estate in south-west Moscow that was quickly heralded as the solution to the postwar housing crisis. Factories were built, employees retrained, and by the mid-6 0s this modest, prefabricated style of apartment block had jumped up like clusters of mushrooms everywhere from Minsk to Vladivostok.

The Fedosovas’ estate is well-connected to the city centre. Essential services- kindergarten, schools, a health centre, transport links- are easily accessible on foot, and their flat seems down on to apple trees, flowers and a children’s play park. It is tranquil, the air is fresh and the development is schemed at a human scale. Both Fedosova and her father grew up there; several generations of her family live in nearby flats.

Under the June law, if two-thirds of residents in a block election yes to the so-called ” renovation programme”, the block is likely to be demolished. Fedosova voted no: for her, the demolitions won’t just destroy buildings, but also a sense of history, home and belonging.

Empty Empty 1960 s Khrushchevka flats in the Butirsky district
Vera Voronina inside the condemned home that she has just freshly redecorated
Vassily, a retired professor of immunology, argues that people are being deceived
Tatyana Buyanova’s two-storey cottage, which has been scheduled for demolition
Nikolai Kanchov, who stood in the recent municipal elections for the opposition party Yabloko, and resident Anastasia, inside one of the condemned flats in the Metrogorodsky district

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20+ Dirty Adult Jokes Hidden In Cartoons That You Altogether Missed As A Kid

As a kid, did you ever wonder why your mothers would chuckle so hard at the cartoons you were watching sometimes? Well, we might have found the answer. It turns out that those Disney movies, Nickelodeon shows, and Cartoon Network specials we would watch way back when were actually loaded with subtle, well-hidden dirty jokes that altogether went over all of our heads. Here at Bored Panda , we’ve compiled a list of some of the most hilarious – and shocking – ‘bordering-on-adult’ scenes from children’s programming we could find, and we think you’re old enough to see it for yourself now. Just beware that you may never be able to see your old favorite cartoons the same way ever again.

Scroll down for the dirty truth, and be sure to vote for the ones that gave you a guilty chuckle.

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Grayson Perry:’ As an artist I find Brexit exciting. No doubt it will be a disaster’

Britains finest transvestite potter is hard at work investigating the nature of masculinity. Over a game platter near his London home, he discusses motorbikes, body image and more

For a while, perhaps all his life, Grayson Perry has been making a study of what it means to be a human. So, what do two blokes nursing a beer in the corner of a tavern talk about of a Tuesday lunchtime? The topics of dialogue with Britains greatest ever transvestite potter-cum-tapestry-maker kick off as follows: what do net curtains genuinely signify( he was working on a hypothesi on his way here ); the difficulty of taking corners at velocity on a 9ft-long pink motorbike( he is having a more wieldy model custom built in Sussex ); books as the last talisman of savour( they are the knick-knacks of thought, arent they ?); and the distinction, if any, between bohemians and hipsters( as soon as something becomes a phenomenon its already died ).

We are in the Drapers Arms in Islington , north London, a place in which we both feel something of a proprietorial interest. I lived in a flat across the road 20 -odd years ago, when this place was more a scoundrels saloon than gastropub. Perrys association goes back further. He moved into his wife Philippas house near here in the mid-1 980 s, and watched the region become a byword for gentrification. Hes more commonly found in an unreconstructed caff on nearby Upper Street, he insists, but the Drapers is a good option if he is going posh. One way of looking at his career, he indicates, is that he has expended half a lifetime operate and saving enough money to move his studio from Walthamstow to within a five-minute bike ride of his home. He calculates that the relocation of space cost him 220,000 a mile( seven in all ).

We are alone in the pub at midday, save for a guy who has just finished painting the far wall. Perry , now 57, is in civvies T-shirt and zip-up jacket and jeans and straggly hair. The previous hour I assured him he was full Bo-Peep and platform clogs at the opening of an exhibit of The Vulgar at the Barbican( Dedicated the theme I had to make an effort, he says ). The fact that he seems equally at ease in both incarnations suggests that he has long since got his own version of manhood definitively cracked.

He is less certain of what to order. His wifes away on holiday and hes not that much of a cook, so he wants to make sure he has a decent feed. I often get ordering wrong and then I detest myself, he says, gruffly. Im a fan of the restaurant where they only have one thing and maybe a vegetarian option. You get what you are given.

The Drapers offers a full nose-to-tail option for the red-blooded male, though it seems a little bit early in the day for ox heart. Im looking at my tactics here, Perry says. Do I want fish for main or fish for starter? Suet crust lamb and carrot pie: I like the sound of that, and theres a donation to Action against Hunger. He rules out the Arbroath smokie. Im loath to eat anything in a restaurant that involves toast. I can get that at home. Im struggling. Im overwhelmed

Given that we are ostensibly here to talk about manliness we opt to bond over a shared plate of game: partridge and teal. Perry sips at a pint of lager. Hes got another do tonight so hes got to go careful on the booze, he says. He determines it harder these days to get drunk twice in a day. Starting out as an artist he would pitch up with Francis Bacon at the Colony Rooms in Soho at lunchtime and drink through to when the pub opened in the evening, and then carry on. Times change.

Of late, he has been touring the country with his show Typical Man in a Dress, and chatting with different groups of men for some documentary raw material. He has a book-length manifesto, The Descent of Man , that dismantles the default male, that construction that still predominates boardrooms and bar rooms. He stimulates the lawsuit for vulnerability and playfulness. These men have a anxiety of colouring. Its because theyre frightened of making a mistake perhaps. They all wear what I call cowards black. I glance down at my nondescript dark navy attire, and dig into my starter, the ox heart.

Does he ever get heckled on stage?

He doesnt hear much from conventional loudmouths, he says, with some unhappines, more from alpha creative humen in big glasses I can feel them bristling, since they are dont like the idea of me, a non-academic, getting to do the Reith Lectures in a frock.

He is constantly amused by the way that in any given group of men, petty hierarchies immediately emerge. I was with a group of trans people the other week. I heard one say behind people back, Yeah, but hes a just a cross-dresser. No surgery: a lightweight. So, its like, you cant win.

He is not immune to any of that himself, but amused and sometimes angry about it. Hes grown up through therapy, as well as art. As a adolescent in Essex with an absent father and violent stepfather he not only tried on womens clothes for size, but also was preoccupied with war games, planes and motorbikes. He would remove gaskets in his front garden, and roar around the lanes.

Now he looks for that abandon on his mountain bike in Epping Forest. He cycles with a mate. They cycled to Madrid once, though he wouldnt recommend cycling across northern Spain in the summer. You come across these astonishing hilltop townships, but the bit in between is genuinely horrific, hot, dry, and on an -Aroad. Still, they proved that they could.

Our game platter arrives, two roasted birds, side by side. Perry carves them up, has a mouthful of teal: Its good, he says, but its a bit of a fiddle. Teal will stay in my lexicon as a colouring rather than dinner. I use quite a lot of teal orange in my pottery.

Hes in his studio most days. He loves the constructing side of what he does more fun than stripping motorbikes, though it appeals to a similar sense. Because he works on quite a small scale, he needs an awful lot of ideas to fill a display. Its not like I come in with a memory stick and say blow it up to fill the wall.He has a big one-man exhibition coming up at the Serpentine in the summer, so hes hard at it. Trump and Brexit have been a bit of godsend in this respect, dedicating an edge to his examination of the destructive male ego. These things act as smelling salts, he says. As an artist I find it arousing. No doubt it will be a disaster, but also any chance to stick it to my fellow Islington liberals is great.

They ate: Curried apple and parsnip soup, 5.50( Grayson ); ox heart and sweet and sour cauliflower with almonds, 7.50( Tim ); partridge, teal, potato gratin, mushrooms and kale platter, 32( both ). They drank: Norwich lager, 4.20( Grayson ); IPA, 4.80( Tim ). The Table The Drapers Arms, 44 Barnsbury Street, London N1 1ER; 020 7619 0348 Photograph: Katherine Anne Rose for the Observer

We talking here how every generation seems to have to make its own mistakes. He expended time trying to get some sense out of gangs of teenage boys for his book. Does he believe rites of passageway are harder for them than for him?

The big difference, he guesses, is the preoccupation with body image. We never thought about what our bodies were like, you might get a bit anxious if your pubes were slow growing but that was it. We werent instagramming our six packs. He hesitates to blamed technology, but it clearly doesnt assist. He tries to avoid social media himself. When mobile phones came out, the latter are a status emblem, he says. Now the status symbol is having someone to manage your mobile phone for you.

Technology is another thing for men to hide behind. Its like men very often default to the lowest common denominator in dialogue, he says. I always believe, that guy who is saying to you, The Arsenal did well at the weekend, what he is really saying is, Please like me, Im nice. If we keep going Ill tell you about my divorce.

Its interesting that Perry himself does not seem needy in that way. Though he preaches openness he has a few red lines in what he wants to talk about. A couple of periods I ask him about his relationship with his family, and he deflects to talk about the partridge. Before we go, I ask him whether the scheme was always to become a member of the arts establishment or whether that ambushed him?

Probably a bit of both. And since I cant pretend to be anything else, Ill play with it as much as I can. Early on in my career when I first started selling run, a friend who set great store in, you know, youth culture, said to me, Grayson, youve sold out. I was like: Get over yourself, frankly! Do you actually want to be a squatter all of your fucking life?

He felt hed done his time?

Yeah, he says, I suppose I did.

The Descent of Man is out in paperback( Penguin, 8.99 ). To buy a copy for 7.74, go to

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Six women who made 2015: from Charlotte Church to Calais campaigners

Amandla Stenberg called Hollywood out on its ignorance, Marilyn Mosby opposed police brutality and Chi Onwurah joined the shadow cabinet we salute them

Chi Onwurah


Chi Onwurah. Photo: James Drew Turner

The MP for Newcastle upon Tyne Central joined the shadow cabinet following Jeremy Corbyns victory: she had nominated him for the Labour leadership, but you wouldnt call her support a reward for loyalty, precisely. She actually prefered Andy Burnham, but lent Corbyn her vote to broaden the debate. She always strikes me as sincerely believing this stuff, that the membership couldnt be railroaded, that differences couldnt be waved away, that points of view other than her own required a hearing.

Onwurah has breadth and depth an engineering background, a life before parliament and you can hear it in the way she talks about business; she is practical and full of insight where the political class generally adopts a kind of fawning, modern-day courtliness. As shadow minister for business, innovation and abilities, she could be extremelyvaluable to Corbyns Labour: sharp and independent minded, shes believable, likable and hopeful.

She could also potentiallypresent an antidote to an opposition that feels quite cliquey. She was active in the anti-apartheid motion but has no hard-left reputation to speak of. She also knows an absolute ton about broadband. Zoe Williams

Amandla Stenberg and Rowan Blanchard


Amandla Stenberg. Photo: Jon Kopaloff/ FilmMagic


Rowan Blanchard. Photo: Gilbert Carrasquillo/ FilmMagic

Using your fame to discuss intersectional feminism isnt the standard career move for teenage starrings, but step forward Amandla Stenberg and Rowan Blanchard. The 17 -year-old Hunger Games actor first spoke out about the culture appropriation of African-American music and haircuts in a video posted on Tumblr in January.

She was junked as an angry black girl by commenters, but that hasnt stopped her building headlines into 2015 for writing about the effects of white ascendancy on black women in the US, campaigning for more nuanced film roles for non-white performers, and asking her followers to consider what would America be like if it loved black people as much as it loves black culture ?.

She has also co-written Niobe, a comic book with a black female protagonist, and topped Ms Foundations feminist celebrity of 2015 poll. Its a win she shares with 14 -year-old performer Rowan Blanchard who deserves an honourable mention for her own Tumblr essay on the importance of inclusive feminism. Tshepo Mokoena

Charlotte Church


Charlotte Church. Photo: Teri Pengilley for the Guardian

Its been quite a year forCharlotte Church, who outed herself as a prosecco socialist in this verypaper back in May. Mad as hell at the utterly unbearable Tory election victory, she met 250 or so others at the statue of Aneurin Bevan in Queen Street, Cardiff, and marched against austerity.

For Andrew RT Davies, the leader of the Welsh Conservatives, to describe my exercising of democratic freedom as unbecoming really says more than I ever could, she wrote. Perhaps he believes I should get back to the ironing and stop babbling on about airheaded notions such as to defend the NHS( a system that he himself has been most mobile in assaulting ), fighting for a fairer society( a conception that solely eludes his party ), and championing the plight of those in society who are less privileged than me. Perhaps he wants to quiet me because I threaten his status as a wealthy, privately trained, white male.


Who would want to get on the wrong side of Church? Church has proved herself to be an intelligent, passionate activist, speaking at at anti-austerity processions, Glastonbury and fracking protests. She has proved that politics is tons more interesting when womens voices are created. Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett

Clare Moseley( and the volunteers in Calais )


Clare Moseley. Photo: Clare Moseley

From the horrifying paintings, frightening testimonies and sheer number of people involved, the refugee crisis built the world seem pretty bleak this year. The only respite were the defiant acts of kindness it also sparked.

In the Jungle the refugee camp in Calais I gratified Clare Moseley, an accountant from Merseyside. This week, like the rest of us, she should have been thinking about presents, her work Christmas party, or whether to buy a turkey or a goose. Instead, months ago, she left her husband, run, family and friends to distribute gifts and move temporarily to the French town.

After reading about refugees drowning in the Mediterranean, she wanted to show that there are people in Britain who care. And Clare isnt the only one. In Calais there was ex-firefighter Liz Clegg, who set up a women and childrens centre with a squad of young, female volunteers plus a constantstream of women fundraising or driving convoys of donations to the camp. It may not resolving the crisis, but the work of people such as Molseley, and the sleeping bags and warm clothes they brought with them, made a small change to huge numbers of people in 2015. Homa Khaleeli

Marilyn Mosby


Marilyn Mosby. Photograph: Algerina Perna/ AP

As she stepped up to the rostrum at Baltimores war memorial on 1 May, the citys state attorney could not have expected to become the focus of international headlines only 4 months into the job. But 35 -year-old Mosby, the youngest chief prosecutor of any major US city, delivered a damning indictment of unchecked police brutality when she charged six officers over the death of 25 -year-old Freddie Gray. To the youth of this city, she promised, facing a wall of reportersand flashbulbs: I will seek justice on your behalf. This is a moment, this is your moment Youre at the vanguard of this cause. And as young people, our time is now.

Grays death two weeks before in the back of a police van sparked mass protest. It is rare that a police officer is ever charged in the death of a suspect, and Mosby( who was forced to keep reminding critics that she hailed from five generations of policemen) took a major gamble to seek the example. Last week, after a deadlocked jury was unable to reach an unanimous verdict, the magistrate ruled a mistrial. But Mosby, who has faced down critics and the police unions attempts to counter-sue, is decided; a second trial is expected in the new year. Nosheen Iqbal

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The 20 best brunch recipes: component 2

Observer Food Monthly chooses its favourite recipes for brunch including steak and eggs, classic flapjacks and congee

Robert Reids steak and eggs

At Balthazar, we use Angus Aberdeen grain-fed beef for this, and we cut the 300 g steak from a small loin to ensure a consistent thickness of around 2cm. Before cook, leave the steaks out of the fridge for about 15 minutes to bring them up to room temperature; this will help the cooking process.

Serves 2
steaks 2 x 300 g
table salt a pinch
freshly ground black pepper
sunflower petroleum 100 ml
free scope eggs 2
Maldon salt flakes

Season the steaks on the two sides with table salt and black pepper. Heat up a non-stick griddle pan on a medium hot. When hot, set the steaks on the pan diagonally( if you cant fit both on, do one at a time) and cook for 2 minutes, then move diagonally for another 2 minutes so that you get a diamond lattice effect on the steaks. Repeat on the other side. Take out of the pan and put onto 2 warmed plates to rest for five minutes. The steaks is likely to be cooked medium( see below ).

While the steak is resting, start frying your eggs in a non-stick frying pan. Set a little sunflower petroleum into the pan and heat up on a medium heat. Slowly crack your eggs into the pan. Cook slowly. When cooked, gently remove and put one on top of each steak. Serve immediately.

A good rule of thumb for cooking steaks is: three minutes on both sides for medium rare; four minutes on each side for medium; five minutes or longer on both sides for well done, all on a consistent hot. Always leave to rest for five minutes before serving.

Robert Reid is executive chef at Balthazar London WC2;

Nigel Slaters crepes with apples, maple syrup and vanilla cream

Crepes with apples, maple syrup and vanilla cream. Photo: Jonathan Lovekin for the Observer

My own style with the humble pancake.

Serves 6
For the filling
sharp apples 1-1. 2 kg
maple syrup 3 tbsp

For the batter
butter 30 g
plain flour 100 g
egg 1, large
egg yolk 1 extra
caster sugar 1 level tbsp
milk 350 ml
extra melted butter for cooking

For the sauce
creme fraiche 200 g
maple syrup 2 tbsp
vanilla extract a little

To make the apple filling peel, core and roughly chop the apples. Set in a pan with 4 tablespoons of water and simmer, covered, for 10 -1 5 minutes. Stir occasionally. Stir in the maple syrup.

To induce the flapjacks, put the butter in a small pan, melting, then put aside. Sift the flour with a pinch of salt into a large bowl. Softly beat the egg and egg yolk and stir with the sugar, milk and the butter into the flour. Leave to rest for half an hour. Brush a 20 -2 2cm frying pan with melted butter. Stir the batter then pour in a small ladleful, tipping the pan so the batter only covers the base. Cook for a minute or so, until the underside is golden. Loosen with a palette knife, then turn to cook the other side. Lift it out and set aside.

To finish, set the oven at 180 C/ gas mark 4. Place a flapjack on the work surface, spread with the apple fill, then fold in half then half again to give a plump, loose triangle. Place in a warm serving dish and continue until the flapjacks and apple are finished. Place in the oven for 10 minutes. Heat the creme fraiche over a moderate heat until melted. Stir in the maple syrup and a few drops of vanilla extract, stirring. Spoon the sauce over the flapjacks and serve.

Sri Owens nasi goreng fried rice

Nasi goreng fried rice. Photo: Haarala Hamilton for the Observer

This is one of the better known Indonesian dishes, although it originated in China. It has become an everyday dish that can be served with whatever you have, be it cold meat or leftover roast, or a vegetable stir-fry.

A good nasi goreng is light and hot; the rice grains moist but separate, and quite fluffy; and the garnish fresh and attractive to look at. The rice should be cooked 2-3 hours before it is to be fried, so that it has time to get cold. Freshly cooked still-hot rice will go soggy and oily if you fry it. Rice that has been left overnight is too stale to stimulate first-rate nasi goreng.

If you are going to use seafood or meat, it is best to stir-fry this separately. Mix the meat or seafood into the rice in the final 2 minutes before serving; or simply spread on top of the rice on the serving dish.

Serves 4-6
peanut( groundnut) petroleum 2 tbsp
butter 1 tbsp
shallots 3, or 1 small onion, very finely chopped
sambal ulek 1 tsp( see note below) or tsp chilli powder
paprika 1 tsp
tomato puree or tomato ketchup 2 tsp
illuminated soy sauce 2 tbsp
carrots 3, very finely diced
button mushrooms 115 g, cleaned and quartered
hot water 2 tbsp( optional)
salt to taste
long-grain rice 450 g, cooked by the absorption method or in an electric rice cooker, and allowed to cool completely
to serve fried eggs, sliced cucumber, sliced tomato and crisp fried shallots

Heat the oil and butter in a wok or big frying pan. Stir-fry the shallots for 1-2 minutes, then add the other ingredients, including the hot water( if use ), but not the rice. Continue stir-frying for about 6 minutes until the veggies are cooked. Add the rice, and mix thoroughly so that the rice is heated through and takes on the reddish tinge of the paprika and tomato. Adjust the seasoning.

Serve hot on a warmed serving dish by itself or as an accompaniment to a main course; garnished with sliced cucumber, sliced tomatoes, watercress and crisp-fried shallots; or topped with seafood or meat as described earlier.

Sambal ulek
Commonly spelled sambal oelek in English, sambal ulek is made by crushing chopped fresh red chillies with a little salt, use a mortar and pestle. It is available ready-made from Asian food stores and supermarkets.

From Sri Owens Indonesian Food by Sri Owen( Pavilion, 20 )

Rose Carrarinis classic pancakes

Classic flapjacks. Photo: Haarala Hamilton for the Observer

Pancakes are on the brunch menu at Rose Bakery every weekend, whether served with bacon and maple syrup or fruit. Like bacon and eggs, pancakes are so popular I know I will be stimulating many people happy by devoting these recipes. The important thing to remember when building pancakes is never to overmix the batter. Once the wet is added to the dry, you must turn the batter over with a large spoonful no more than eight hours!

At Rose Bakery we often serve these flapjacks with sliced bananas, or we sprinkle blueberries over the flapjacks in the pan just before we turn them over.

Serves 4-6
eggs 2
milk 220 ml
unsalted butter 5 tbsp, melted, plus a little for cooking
plain flour 190 g
salt tsp
caster sugar 1 tbsp
cooking powder 4 tsp
maple syrup and your selection of fruit to serve

In a bowl, beat the eggs with the milk and melted butter. Put aside. In another bowl, sift together the flour with the salt, sugar and cooking powder.

Pour the egg concoction into the flour and stir very lightly until the wet and dry ingredients are merely combined. Rub a small frying pan with a little butter, heat the pan to hot and pour in 3-4 tablespoons of batter.

Tilt the pan so that the batter encompasses the base evenly and turn the hot down to medium.

Cook until a few bubbles come to the surface and then turn the flapjack over.

Cook for about another minute.

Continue inducing flapjacks until all the batter is used up, adding more butter as necessary.

Serve immediately, as flapjacks are best feed hot, with maple syrup and fruit.

From Breakfast, Lunch, Tea: The Many Little Meals of Rose Bakery by Rose Carrarini( Phaidon Press, 19.95 )

Zijun Meng and Ana Gonalvess Ta Ta Eatery congee

Ta Ta Eatery congee. Photo: Tata Eatery

Congee is a dish that Ana and I eat for brunch so much it has built it onto our weekend menu. Our congee incorporates our own Asian style herb sauce inspired by a green sauce we once tried at St John but, particularly at brunch, we often experiment with different flavours.

Serves 2
For the congee
short grain rice 100 g
lighting chicken stock 1.5 litres
white pepper 1 tsp
salt to taste

For the green sauce
fresh ginger 50 g
oil 150 g
coriander bunch
parsley bunch
garlic 2 big cloves, peeled
black vinegar 10 g
fish sauce 20 g
wasabi 10 g

To serve
dough stick sliced you can find these in most Chinatown bakeries, or you can replace it with croutons

For the congee, place the rice and chicken stock together in a pot and simmer on a low hot until the rice breaks down. It shouldnt take more than an hour. Make sure you stir every 10 minutes or so, so it doesnt stick to the bottom of the pan. If the congee becomes too thick add more water. Finish with white pepper and salt.

For the green sauce, peel the ginger and mince in the food processor. In a pot place all the oil and bring it almost to boiling point( 200 C ). Drop in the minced ginger and fry until golden, stirring always so as not to catch.

Remove the pot from the hot and leave the petroleum to cool down; strain and dispose ginger, but keep the oil.

Rinse the herbs. In a food processor, blitz together the cold ginger oil, coriander, parsley and garlic. Season with black vinegar, fish sauce and wasabi.

To serve, we recommend a small bowl of congee per person finished with a tablespoon of green sauce and got a couple of slice of dough stick.

Leftover sauce can be use as a dip sauce for grilled meat and fish, or served with potatoes and steamed vegetables.

Ana Gonalves and Zijun Meng are chefs and co-founders of T T Eatery, London E8;

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Woman Hilariously Trolls Stranger Who Sent Her An Unwanted Dick Pic

Getting sent an unsolicited dick pic is like getting astonish acupuncture.

Acupuncture, like a dick pic, is merely nice when you have specifically asked for it. Otherwise, it’s just someone sticking needles into your forehead on the subway.

And yet, menon the internetlove sending unsolicited dick pics more than Peter Thiel loves suing Gawker. They can’t get enough of it.

Apparently, women don’t pay enough attention to these men in their non-virtual lives, so the three men have decided to only digitally surprise girls they don’t knowwith their pale, shrunken mushrooms. This, apparently, attains themfeel very good about themselves.

Well, when novelist Samantha Mawdsley was sent a dick pic out of the blue on Facebook, she decided to turn the tables on her digital flasher.

Her perfect and highly effective dick-pic counterpunch is unbelievably simple, but it showedher assailantexactly how unwelcome a picture of a stranger’s random penis is.

Here is the guy’s original text. By the style, Samantha censored these images with these graphics. The guy’s penis doesn’t actually look like an emoji vomiting. It merely smells like that.

She left the pic alone for a while, dismissing the guy like most people do. But apparently after sleeping on it, she decided to retaliate … by sending him dick pics of her own.

She merely observed pictures of penis on the internet and sent them along. As you can imagine, the guy did not like this at all.

She dedicated him a savour of his own medicine, and by medicine, I mean the sudden and unwelcome receiving of disembodied sperm-delivery mechanisms.

The fact this cheesefuckactually got annoyed about this is the most perfect encapsulation of exactly how deluded all those people who send unsolicited dick pics are.

“I was nice with[ you ], ” the guy explained. He did, after all, tell her she had nice eyes( after forcing those nice eyes to ensure his gangrenous genitalia that haven’t been touched by anyone other than himself or his dog in 16 years ).

She explained she was being exactly as nice as he was.

Then, the guycalledSamanthacrazy, and began explaining she will not be able to ****( fuck? paint? knit? who can say ?) one of “those” anyway.

Yes, guy, she will not be able to ****( microwave? befriend? praise ?) one of the penises she arbitrarily find off the internet, and which, this man likely assumes, is connected exclusively to incredibly hot celebrity faces — because that’s how big penises work.

Counterpoint: The Mountain from “Game of Thrones.” Dude’s face looks like my knee, but I’m sure he has a penis at least as large as a base camp on Mount Everest.

Samantha’sstrategy is one I hope other women will apply, but largely I hope females have to stop dealing with these fucking losers and their Lilliputian crotch vomit.

Check out Samantha’s Twitterhere.

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The many faces of Bryan Lewis Saunders

( CNN ) “I’ve been putting a lot of stuff in pouches so they don’t start nesting in my art. They may come while I’m on the phone, that’s the thing.”

Bryan Lewis Saunders has a cockroach infestation. He thought they’d run when he left for a trip to Budapest, but the bugs moved back in while he was away. They’re an irritant and a source of stress he says, but he’s trying to reach equanimity with the situation.
“I actually is considered that when I die it all get thrown in the trash.”
More immediately pressing is the word on the tip of Saunders’ tongue: the word he’s trying to use to define his experimentation. He’s attempting to reflect the cause and consequence nature of his project. Impressionism is too limited. “Influencism” isn’t quite right, he says , nor is “Experiencism”.
“Any time I start making some type of outline of what depicting everyday encompasses, it just become so full up with all these different things.
“But it’s just life, actually — I’m merely interacting with it in a different way.”

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Will Psychedelic Mushrooms Be on Denver's Ballot in November? – 5280 | The Denver Magazine

5280 | The Denver Magazine

Will Psychedelic Mushrooms Be on Denver's Ballot in November?
5280 | The Denver Magazine
While many Coloradans are familiar with the recreational use of psychedelic mushrooms (we won't ask how), a growing contingent of Denverites are advocating for the medicinal efficacy of psilocybin, the primary compound in the hallucinogenic fungi. A

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Chernobyl 30 years on: former residents recollect life in the ghost city of Pripyat

Evacuees from the Chernobyl nuclear accident remember relatives, friends and colleagues who died and the abandoned city proclaimed unsafe for 24,000 years

In a biting wintertime gale, Alexander Petrovich Zabirchenko strolls slowly along a memorial to firefighters and workers who died in the Chernobyl nuclear catastrophe, touching each of the portraits engraved in granite. He does not shiver or complain of the cold. He is a big man and draws himself up to his full height before each sombre stone.

Here is Valeri, and here Vladimir and Alexandr and Anatoli I knew these men, he says. I worked with them. They were colleagues and friends.

As one of the many Chernobyl workers who returned to the devastated plant to fight the fires, Zabirchenko is an official Hero of the Soviet Union. He bats away the honour with a wave of his hand.

These humen were the heroes; every one of them. They died avoiding an even bigger catastrophe. They saved not just Ukraine, Russia or the Soviet Union as it was, but the whole of Europe.

Next month, thousands of men, women and children in the northern Ukrainian city of Slavutych, will gather at the monument here to light candles to the 30 initial victims of the worlds worst nuclear accident. Three decades on, they will recollect not only the dead, but the memories and dreams they left behind in Pripyat, the ghost city that was once their home.

The Chernobyl nuclear power plant soon after the accident in 1986. Photograph: AP

The story of Pripyat and Slavutych is a narrative of twin cities: Pripyat, a former model Soviet metropolis built to house Chernobyl employees but abandoned to radioactive contamination and the ravages of nature; Slavutych, an urban phoenix that rose from the ashes of the disaster to replace it.

It took 36 hours after an ill-judged exam on Reactor Number 4 at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant ran catastrophically wrong, for the Soviet authorities to order the evacuation of Pripyat, only two miles from the plant.

In under four hours, more than 49,000 people left their homes, most shuttled away from the plant but not the cloud of radioactive dust carried by gust over swaths of western Europe by a fleet of 1,200 buses.

They were told they would be gone for two or three days and recommended that you take the minimum: identity papers, documents, food and garment. None ever returned to live in Pripyat, declared too radioactively dangerous for human habitation for at the least 24,000 years.

Six months after the disaster, the Soviet authorities proclaimed a new city would be built around 30 miles to the north-east of the power station, to replace the old one. Many of the families evacuated from Pripyat moved to this city, Slavutych the old Slavic name of the nearby Dnieper River.

Alexander Zabirchenko was awarded the highest distinction in the Soviet Union for returning to Chernobyl to fight the flames. Photo: Lynn Hilton

The area on which it was build was first covered in two metres of fresh, uncontaminated clay. Architects and construction workers from eight former Soviet republics Armenia, Azerbaijan, Estonia, Georgia, Latvia, Lituania, Russia and Ukraine were each tasked with creating one of the citys eight districts. As a result, each district has its own distinctive culture and ethnic features: so, flats and homes in the Georgian district have more decoration than those in the more austere Russian district next door.

Photographs in the citys museum capture the excitement of the first residents: many followed the Ukrainian tradition of letting a cat cross the threshold of their new homes for good luck. At the time, the new city mayor, Volodimir Udovichenko, told them: If Pripyat represents demolition, defeat, a lost city, a dead city then Slavutych is the resurrection.

Today, the number of former Pripyat residents in Slavutych has dwindled to fewer than one in three, but thousands are still to this day employed at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant, despite its closure under European Union pressure in 2000.

Every morning the develop from Slavutych transports workers such as 62 -year-old Pasha Kondratiev, 50 minutes along the line to its only destination: the Chernobyl plant. Every evening, around 4.30 pm it disgorges them back in Slavutych. All undergo daily radioactivity checks, including the train.

A rusting nuclear sign on a building in Pripyat, which was evacuated within days of the Chernobyl disaster. Photo: Lynn Hilton

Kondratiev, who started work at the plant 33 years ago, works at Chernobyl checking radiation evaluate equipment. On the day of the accident he and his wife Natasha and daughters Tatiana, 12, and Marina, 10, walked to the bridge over the river subsidiary feeding the nuclear plants cooling pond, to get a better view of “whats going on”. The site was subsequently named the bridge of demise, because of the levels of radioactivity in the area.

I could see the ruinings of the reactor. It was completely destroyed and there was a cloud of smoking coming from it. Nobody gave us any information, but we knew it was serious. We knew it was something scaring, Kondratiev says.

The following day when the evacuation was announced, Natasha grabbed girl children and intersected the city to catch a develop to relatives living in Smolensk in neighbouring Russia.

At their neat bungalow home in Slavutych, Kondratiev adds: When I ensure the power plant, I understood at once there was no chance we were going back

His wife shakes her head: I definitely thought we were coming back at first. Then when we were on the train, some of the women whose husbands were firefighters were talking about how theyd been burned and were weeping, and I became so worried about Pasha. My heart was beating so fast. In those days we didnt have mobile phones and I had no idea what would happen to him.

Employees from the Chernobyl plant return by train to Slavutych. Photograph: Lynn Hilton

Two years after the disaster, their previously healthy elder daughter Tatiana, became asthmatic. When she collapsed in the street in Slavutych, aged 19, the ambulance failed to arrive in time to save her.

Who knows if Chernobyl caused her asthma. All we know is that before the accident she was healthy. She was exposed to radiation when she was 12, which is a critical age for a childs development. It was probably links between Chernobyl, but nobody can say for sure, Natasha says.

She mourns for her daughter, and for their former home. From the first day we came to Pripyat, I never wanted to leave. It was paradise. Everywhere there were roses and fruit trees, we could fish in the river and pick mushrooms in the woodland. It seemed the place had been created especially for us.

We went back to Pripyat a few years ago it was very said for us. We went to our apartment and insured the rooms and some of the things we left behind in 1986.

Their second daughter, Marina Uldasheva, 39, says she remembers that just before the catastrophe, her mom had bought her a red raincoat. After she and her sister were evacuated, it was deemed radioactive and destroyed.

I loved that coat; it was so fashionable. But all our clothes were taken away and my long hair was cut like a sons. They said it was radioactive too. We were given a blue workers boiler suit to wear, and slippers.

Nikolai Syomin was awarded the Hero of the Soviet Union honor. Photo: Lynn Hilton

I have no strong link with Pripyat I was too young to remember it much. Unlike my mothers, I have nothing with which to comparison Slavutych, so it is my home and I will stay here.

In the Russian district of Slavutych, Nikolai Syomin, 59, pins his medals proclaiming him a Hero of the Soviet Union to his jacket for a photograph. Syomin, a graduate of Leningrad Technical School hired as a repairman at Chernobyl, was celebrating his 30 th birthday in his Pripyat flat on the evening of 25 April 1986.

It was a hot evening and we left all the windows open. We insured some kind of smoking in the sky but we didnt guess much of it. Our apartment was in the centre of Pripyat. We subsequently discovered the wind brought radioactive dust and stimulated it one of the most polluted areas.

The following day, he phoned the nuclear plant. I got through but was told they werent authorised to say anything and the person put the phone down. The next day they announced that Pripyat was being evacuated.

As a designated essential worker, Syomin was told he must stay and help the clean-up operation. His spouse Natalya, 60 a cheerful, dignified woman, who worked as a nurse in Pripyats ports complex says she grabbed one small suitcase and her three-year-old son Anton, and left.

The area on which Slavutych was built was first contained within two metres of fresh, uncontaminated clay. Photo: Lynn Hilton

In the hours after the accident, everyone received a dose of radioactivity. Where we lived was among the worst areas polluted. The forest around was bulldozed and buried, she says. When we left, we didnt realise that it would be for good. It was merely months ago that we realised nothing would ever be the same again.

Slavutych has the same spirit as the city they left, Natalya says, but it will always be our second home.

Pripyat holds so many memories for us. Our son was born there and everyone misses it. All we have are memories. It was mentally tough to go back, very painful, so we stopped going.

The last period[ we were there ], we find that everything is overgrown, so we have to work hard to hold on to our memories. At the time we were young, we were alive and nothing was a problem. We didnt worry about living near the power plant. We were told it was safe.

Every 26 April we meet with friends and neighbours from Pripyat to remember. But we cannot go back, so we have to look forward.

Sergei and Alexandra Shedrakov. Photo: Lynn Hilton

Next door to the Syomins, Sergei Matolievich Shedrakov, 59, and his wife Alexandra Ivanovna, 60, remember being to withdraw from Pripyat with their two children daughter Katy, then aged five, and son Pavel, aged 16 months.

There was no panic, but looking back it was scaring, says Alexandra, who used to work in one of Pripyats post offices. People lived with the power plant, they worked there, they relied on it. We didnt even think of radiation.

Pripyat was a lovely city, life was good there but its good here in Slavutych too. As the Russian saying goes, there are no good things without bad things.

Lydia Petrovna Malesheva, 77, recalls the exhilaration generates the news in the fall of 1986 that Slavutych was to be built. We were told a new city would be built just for us, the people who had lost Pripyat. We were so excited, we stayed up all night talking about it, she says. A city just for us. We could hardly believe it.

Malesheva devotes a guided tour of her small garden pointing out the summer space for barbecues, apple, apricot and pear trees.

The first of us moved to Slavutych in August 1988. Those who had worked at the Chernobyl plant after the accident, like my late spouse, were given a selection of apartments or little houses. We selected a house. Slavutych is lovely and the best solution in the circumstances but its not Pripyat. I miss Pripyat very much. Sometimes its too painful to think about it.

Marina Uldashev with her daughter. Photograph: Lynn Hilton

She adds: We went back for the 20 th anniversary and there were so many people, it was as if the city had come alive again, but of course it hadnt.

Once a year, around Easter, some former residents of the now contaminated dead zone around Chernobyl still return for a few hours only long enough to visit relatives graves. Pripyat, built in 1970, was hailed as a triumph of Soviet urban planning: the austere concrete style favoured by USSR designers tempered by colourful murals and Communist slogans exhorting residents to analyse, work or remember the revolution. Boat and hydrofoils cruised the river whose sandy bank, nicknamed The Beach, was popular with sunbathers.

Pripyats stores were better stocked than elsewhere in the Soviet Union. Its hospital and clinics were fully equipped, the Palace of Culture housed a theater, and there were athletics vestibules and an Olympic-sized swimming pool too. At the time of the accident, residents were aroused about the impending May Day inauguration of an amusement park with a Ferris wheel, swingboats and brightly coloured dodgems.

Today, Pripyat is a ghost city. The Ferris wheel that never turned has become an enduring symbol of the disaster. Radioactivity levels hover around 62. 3 microroentgens an hour( 0.62 microsieverts ): only over twice the normal background radioactivity in London, and less than going through an airport security scanner three times which builds Pripyat safe enough for a brief visit, but not long-term habitation.

But Alexander Petrovich Zabirchenko, 68, who worked as head of Chernobyls electrical department, opts not to return to his former home township, where he loved to fish in the river and the plants cooling reservoir. He has difficulty walking because of circulation problems he blames on radiation exposure, and will instead pay his tributes to the dead in Slavutych.

The cemetery here was built with enough room for 50 years, Zabirchenko says, but its already full. So many friends and colleagues have gone.

All those the Guardian spoke to named relatives and friends who had died of cancer, which they linked to the catastrophe 30 years ago. None expressed concern about the continuing hazard from radioactive contamination. For them, the elephant in the room is not radiation, but the threat of unemployment.

Many fear the completion of the new EU-funded sarcophagus being built to encase the lead and concrete shell that was hurriedly thrown over what was left of Reactor Number 4 will drive many out of work when it is put in place next year, in a city still strangely reliant on the power station.

Marina Uldasheva, who has two children Varvara, aged five months, and Matvey, 10, says she is not worried about her husband, Vitaly, working at Chernobyl where he is a member of the team decommissioning the reactors. I dont think about it. Everything terrifying happened a long time ago.

Until 2008, when it mysteriously disappeared, central Slavutych boasted another Soviet-style art monument with the motto of the citys architects: From the ashes of the past, we will build a new world .

The challenge facing Slavutych today is how to ensure an economic calamity does not transform the city into another Pripyat.

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