Cooking for Geeks

About a month ago, I read about the above mentioned book in some blog or another. Fortunately, Amazon allows one to 'look inside', so I was able to see whether this would be a suitable book for me. 'Suitable' is an understatement: this is a book for which I have waited 30 years, although I probably didn't know that.

It's a not very well kept secret that my first (and currently only) degree is in Food Science. The degree was based on four main subjects: biochemistry, analysis, microbiology and technology. I was strong on the first three but no so much on the fourth, which might be considered a problem when one considers that most graduates from my degree course found an opening in an industrial company. I tended to work more on the analysis side, and had stints with Schweppes and two 'public' analysts, the latter being laboratories whose customers tend to be local authorities or private people.

Emigrating to Israel effectively prevented me from continuing to work in the food field, as I have lived on a kibbutz from day one, and in those days, it was anathema for members to work outside of the kibbutz. Of course these days, the situation has changed completely and it seems rare for a member to work inside the kibbutz.

Although I have always cooked, my 'glory days' were when I lived as a student in a commune in London; I would cook dinner once or twice a week for up to ten people, although occasionally I would cook for up to thirty people. This cooking had virtually nothing to do with my studies but plenty to do with the fact that my mother, alei'a hashalom, was an excellent cook and ran a small catering business at one time.

Although I did work in the kibbutz kitchens, I wouldn't call this cooking. At times it was weight lifting and at times it was managing the flow of hot trays in and out of a huge oven, but not cooking.

Only in the past six years or so have I really been cooking at home, and in that time I have always looked to expand my cooking horizons. I often joke that I enjoy cooking but not eating, a fact which has probably damped my enthusiasm at times (because someone has to eat the food!). Over the years I have expanded my repertoire whilst acquiring new equipment; this expansion has often been recorded here.

But for most of the time, I've simply been following recipes in the time honoured fashion. One learns a recipe then starts changing it slightly over time until it eventually becomes something different. I find that I have to do this frequently as most British or American recipes don't match the requirements of an Israeli palate, and sometimes it's difficult to find the same ingredients.

'Cooking for geeks' is partially an explanation of the chemistry and physics of cooking (something which didn't fit into my degree course), partially about the joys of experimentation in the kitchen and partially explaining cooking to someone who would feel more comfortable in writing a computer program than cooking a proper meal (as opposed to ordering pizza). The most interesting part of the book at the moment (it's a book which one dips into, as opposed to reading it from start to finish) is the correct temperature at which to cook meat, so that one protein denatures whilst another does not.

So far, I've only cooked one meal according to the book, a simple meat stew. The book states that a long, slow cook is needed in order to convert collagen into gelatin: it's just as well that I bought a slow cooker a few months ago. Whilst the meat in the stew was cooked perfectly, there were some problems with other ingredients - my wife would prefer that I peel potatoes before cooking them (all the nutrition is contained just under the skin!), and the beans were slightly undercooked and bitter. I can easily change one variable - soak the beans in water for a longer period - and repeat the experiment.

Flushed with a sense of adventure, I tried sweet and sour chicken from a recipe which might have resulted in something similar served as the Chinese restaurant at which we ate in Prague. I discovered two things: one cannot deep fry in a wok, and that corn flour is not the same as corn flour. That last statement needs amplifying, as it is a result of mistranslating a term from English into Hebrew. Many recipes use corn flour as a thickener - this is basically starch, which absorbs the water in the food and builds a polymer (see the book!); this corn flour is a white powder. But 'corn flour' is also flour made from corn, and is a golden powder, similar to bread crumb powder. It's the type of flour that one would make tortillas from. Both products sort of have the same name in Hebrew: the white powder is called 'cornflor' whereas the golden flour is 'kemach tiras' (literally, corn flour). Mistakenly, I had been buying the second type of flour when I should have been buying the first type - this is why my sweet and sour sauce refused to thicken!

The food itself tasted quite good but looked terrible. The problem with the sauce has now been rectified, but I don't know what I'm going to do about deep frying the chicken, as this is a type of cooking which is banned in my kitchen. Theoretically if the oil is hot enough and the food dry enough, then deep frying is ok, but in practice things are always different. Anyway, I don't have a pan in which to deep fry. I think that I'm going to try a recipe for slow cooked sweet and sour chicken, which has a higher probability of succeeding.

Misinformation

I've written before about the ERP program with which I work. I think that this program is comparatively easy for the average user, but it comes into its own when talking about development. This program allows the developer to add tables, screens, reports and procedures, all with a standard format. This capability to extend the program's capabilities is what enables the companies using the program to customise it according to their needs. In my humble opinion, one of the companies in the group exaggerated in the amount of customisation that they demanded and created a program in which the non-standard seems at times to be larger than the standard.

In the past year and three quarters, I think that I've managed to encourage the use of standard procedures, whilst ignoring some of the more outlandish developments. The passage of time and changes in the working population have allowed some of the customisations to be forgotten. At the same time, I've added some customisations of my own, primarily designed to increase the use of the ERP and decrease the use of Excel.

The other day I was asked to develop a screen in which would be stored reservations of raw materials (a certain raw material will be ordered for a specific customer order and no other customer order should be allowed to use that raw material). Every company seems to implement this in a different matter (if at all) which may be why there is no coverage of this subject in the standard program. My development is not much more than two data tables and two screens; the data does not affect anything else in the program.

In the course of writing a database trigger, I needed to refresh automatically the data screen, specifically a line different from the current line. I remembered that there was such a function listed in the documentation, so I hauled out the manual, found the relevant section and added the necessary command to the trigger. Instant syntax error.

I contacted the company who supports us about this; normally they answer my programming questions quickly (for example, how do I display data on the screen in a different colour), but this time I was given the bum's rush. I was sent a copy of the documentation (which I already have) and told that if I don't solve the problem, the company will be willing to do so for a fee. I checked the documentation to see whether it had been updated from the version which I have, but the relevant section showed no changes.

Somewhat annoyed, I decided to scan all the existing triggers in the program; this idea caused information overload as there are a lot of triggers. So I scaled down my request and asked for the code to all the triggers in screens beginning with A; once this was displayed, I searched for the word 'refresh' (the necessary command) and found it quickly. It turns out that the command has to be called with a parameter, presumably the number of seconds to wait before refreshing. I added 'refresh 1' to my trigger's code - and it worked perfectly.

In order to close the service call which I had opened, I wrote that I had found a solution without giving any details, although I did write that there was a mistake in the documentation. I was sorely tempted to write that I would reveal the correct syntax for a fee but decided to cut down on the sarcasm.

From the very first time that I saw the documentation, I saw that one could only understand it after one understood what was necessary to do. The documentation is sometimes hard to understand, lacks examples and in this case, totally wrong; instead of writing 'use the refresh command', they could have given an example.

Such problems are very annoying; very often, solutions come via favours from other developers or via hard personal graft. It shouldn't be like this.

Malta log #3

On our second full day in Malta, we rode on one of those get-on get-off tour buses which travel all around the main island of Malta. This way we got to see much more of Malta than we had previously. After leaving Valetta, the first stop was at Medina; we knew not to get off the bus but we advised other travellers not to miss this. The stop after that was Medina Glass, a glass making/selling facility seemingly in the middle of nowhere. We did alight here, spent some time in the facility and unfortunately missed a bus, making the wait longer than it need be.

The next stop was in Mosta, which is almost exactly in the centre of Malta. This town boasts the third largest unsupported dome in the World, which we photographed from all sides before having a very rich - and cheap - lunch in a cafe across the road. The bill for the four of us was only slightly more than the cost of one portion in the restaurant in Medina the previous day, and the food was far more filling. Unfortunately, there isn't much more to do in Mosta so we had to wait there for more than an hour before the next tour bus came.

This bus took us around the northern coast of Malta, which is completely different from Valleta. There were a few small beaches, high rise hotels and a more resort- like ambience. There is a region called Golden Bay which is equivalent to any beach resort, except for the fact that the beach area is somewhat limited. The whole of the eastern coast of Malta was like this; every five minutes we would see a minute beach, a marina and a hotel.

Eventually we found ourselves back in Valetta, near the main bus station. We had to stop a taxi in the street to take us back to the hotel, but it transpires that where we stopped was only about a ten minute walk (for most people) from the hotel.

In the evening, I booked a boat trip for the following day; for this we would be picked up at the Castille Hotel, which turned out to be midway between the hotel and the main bus station, albeit up a steep flight of steps. When checking out the meeting place, we came across the Saluting Battery,and above it the Upper Baccara gardens. A very pleasant place to visit.

The following morning, a taxi took us to the Castille Hotel (there was no way that my father could walk those steps), and from there a minibus took us to the harbour from which the cruise ships leave. We went on the "Gozo, Comino and Blue Lagoon Fernandes" cruise which took us back up the eastern shore of Malta to the other islands in the Maltese archipelago, Comino and Gozo.

Comino is an almost unhabited piece of rock whose Blue Lagoon features another postage stamp sized beach. We stopped here for a few hours; some people swam whereas others went on a speedboat, investigating the many caves nearby. We opted for the (extra cost) speedboat, which was good fun. After an on-board lunch, we sailed for Gozo, made a 180 degree turn in the harbour, found another isolated spot for swimming (which seemed extraneous) and then headed for home. Most people by this time were nodding off.

This morning I made a quick excursion to St John's Co-Cathedral, which like everything else in Valetta, is only a few minutes walk from the hotel; I had to pick up some bits and pieces which we had tried to buy in a tourist shop the previous evening. I didn't bother taking my video camera, which was a shame, as there was an army trooping of the colour outside of the cathedral.

In another hour a taxi will come to take us to Malta airport. From there, we will leisurely make our way back to Prague, wait a few hours in Prague Airport, and then catch a plane back to the Holy Land. Estimated time of arrival is 3am tomorrow morning. This is going to be a long and boring day.

Malta log #2

Since the relations between Turkey and Israel started to deteriorate in the past few months, many Israelis have been looking for alternative holiday destinations (Antalya was a favourite of the Israeli masses). Greece has become a strong contender, but one minor contender for the holiday crown is Malta, a small island in the western Mediterranean. This is not the reason why we are in Malta.

My father's brother was killed here during the Second World War (1941), while he was serving on a minesweeper cleaning the entrance to the Maltese Grand Harbour. My parents visited Malta 35 years ago, but did not find any form of memorial, so my father initiated correspondence with the British Ministry of Defence, in order to set the record straight. Eventually he was sent a letter stating the events of his brother's death, along with a photograph of the listing.

A few months ago, my father got into his head that he wanted to visit Malta again while he is still capable of doing so (he is 88 and somewhat limited physically). I began correspondence with a few war museums in Malta but didn't get a conclusive answer as to where I might find a memorial for my father's brother (I have to call him that and not uncle as he was dead long before I was born). Once we decided to go to Malta, I saw that there were no direct flights to Israel which is why we 'stopped off for a week' in Prague on the way.

Anyway, today was our first real day in Malta. I suggested that we start our search for the elusive memorial in the War Museum, which was very interesting but not what we were looking for. At the very end I saw a reference to a Royal Navy memorial so I suggested that we go there. Whilst waiting for a taxi, my father began chatting to the Museum guard, and she suggested speaking to the museum curator. In the curator's office, we found a book of remembrance which did in fact list my father's brother.

My father was overwhelmed with emotion! We then 'held' an impromptu memorial session with my father reciting the Mourner's Kaddish.

Even though we had found what we were looking for, we went with the taxi driver to what we thought would be the Royal Navy memorial. We weren't able to find what we were looking for, so we abandoned the search. From there, the taxi driver to us to the old settlement of Medina, which was the most attractive part of Malta which we have seen yet.

After spending a few hours here (including lunch), we telephoned our friendly taxi driver who took us back to Valetta. He was unable to take us back to our hotel as he couldn't find the way although he tried; the back streets of Valetta are like a warren, and he was running back and forward in a brave attempt to find the right entrance to the maze. This included going the wrong way down several one way streets. In the end, he gave up and dropped us off in a pedestrian precinct which actually was not far from the hotel.

Here ends today's adventures.

Malta log #1

Most of today's energies were spent on getting from Prague to Malta. There is a direct flight, but we had to wait several hours in Prague airport before we could even check in. The flight itself didn't last long, but we managed to arrive in Malta just in time for the first rain of the year. After collecting our luggage (and not passing through customs, as this was an internal EU flight), our driver took us to the British Hotel.

I don't know whether the route the driver took was indicative of the buildings in Valleta, the capital of Malta, but judging by the state of our hotel, Malta has not yet reached the 21^st century. If one were to describe the hotel in one word, that word would probably be 'crummy'. The only good thing that I can write about the hotel is that we have a good view over the harbour. My mobile computer has picked up a wireless network, but the signal strength is weak and does not allow a connection to the Internet. So I am writing this offline and will post it whenever I get the chance – which may be only when we return home on Saturday. Apart from being unable to blog (the least of my problems), I had expected to be able to connect to work and also to check activities for Malta.

Update: it turns out that there is free wi-fi from the hotel's lounge, but not from the rooms - maybe it's the thick stone walls that causes the wi-fi signal not to be picked up.

Prague log #5

What does one do in a city on a rainy Sunday? One goes to the museum, of course! Along with what seemed to be most of Prague's population, we too stood in a long queue in order to enter the national museum this morning, after having taken about an hour to get there by public transport (it was probably less, but that's how it seemed). The museum itself was fine as museums go, although a bit more boring than usual. It didn't help that all of the explanations regarding the exhibits were in Czech (doh). The building itself was magnificent, and we had difficulty in believing that it had been built especially as a museum; I was convinced that it had been a palace which had been converted, as both the internal and external architectures were amazing.

Later on in the afternoon, it stopped raining, so I went out for a stroll down a street which we had not visited since the first day when we bought a sim card. Down at the far end of the street (10-15 minutes from the hotel) was an open-air market selling food and trinkets, and about 500 metres past this market was ... the museum! We probably could have walked there in 20 minutes, had it not been raining.

In the evening, we took a bus to the centre of the old city, walked to the Charles Bridge, crossed it and then drank hot chocolate in a cosy cafe while waiting for night to come. Walking back, we were disappointed by the poor lighting on the Charles Bridge, but other buildings were well lit. The streets and cafes were well-populated; not as full as they are at 3pm, but much fuller than at 9am.

Here ends the broadcast from Radio Prague.

Prague log #4

We have been lucky with the weather so far; every day the temperature has been around and above 20 degrees at lunchtime, starting at a more modest 10 degrees in the morning. The weather forecast showed that Saturday would be cooler, with a 40% chance of precipitation. In other words, Saturday was a wash out (in more ways than one).

The day started well by me going out early and filming more alleys, streets and courtyards; places that we had discovered the day before when they were full of tourists eating a late lunch. At 8:30am, the streets were almost empty and I could film undisturbed. This was also the first time that I could see properly through the lens what I was filming - in all previous days, the sunlight had been so strong that I couldn't really see.

My wife had been nagging all the time that she wanted to go to a market in Prague; after extensive research, I discovered that there was a market held on the last Saturday of each month - which fortunately was yesterday. The market is held near Namesti Miru, an easy metro journey. She also wanted me to find a laundromat in order that we might wash our clothes, and ironically the only walk-in place that I could find was also near Namesti Miru. Thus we could kill two birds with one stone.

When we arrived at NM metro station - the deepest in Prague at 55m, with the longest escalator in Europe - the weather had turned to drizzle. We decided that I would stay with the laundry whilst my wife went to the market and that I would telephone her when the laundry was ready. With this plan in action, I sat down to read "Thirteen reasons why", a powerful 'teen' novel which I can heartily recommend.

By the time the laundry was supposedly dry, my wife had returned, disappointed at the market which was composed mainly of bits and pieces with nothing really interesting. Most of the laundry was not yet dry, so we had to to give it another 40 minutes in the dryer. Here I must put in an excellent word for the laudromat, which is open every day from 8am till 8pm (I think). Unlike other laundromats which I have visited around the world (and unfortunately there have been too many), this one has, along with its laundry area, two lounges with comfortable seats, a rack of books and four computers for browsing. I thought that the place also doubled as a cafe, for we had a pleasant cup of tea. To my surprise, when we came to pay for the tea, the operator said that it was free.

If one should ever need to wash one's clothes in Prague, then go to this laundromat (Korunni 14, five minutes walk from Namesti Miru metro station); one will be in a friendly atmosphere and one will not be disappointed. The clothes will be clean as well!

On the way back, the drizzle was now constant, so there wasn't much that we could do except head for the hotel, unpack the clean clothes and return once more to the Palladium shopping centre, this time to eat pizza. I didn't mention that after returning from Terezin, we ate Chinese again in Palladium; this time we tried the sushi! First up was what we consider to be 'standard' sushi - six of those little rice balls with salmon, coated with seaweed (makizushi). Whilst this was definitely edible, it wasn't stellar. So I tried another piece, a larger slice of salmon placed upon rice. If I may be excused, this was a waste of good salmon! I doubt that I will be trying this again. My wife played safe with the conventional sweet and sour chicken, which was prepared this time with big pieces of chicken in a dumpling sheath, as opposed to the more normal small pieces of chicken.

I am writing these words at 6:30 on Sunday morning; it is raining heavily outside and I am coughing away merrily inside (the viral infection which I had before leaving has come back). I do not know what we are going to do today: I can't face another day in the shopping centre, but conventional tourism seems unwise. Tomorrow we pack and fly to Malta, so at least we can be thankful that only one day was totally disrupted by the weather.

Terezin

Let us remember: Terezin was not an extermination camp. It was designed as a containment camp for Czech Jewry and then as a transit camp. As the number of inmates increased from 10,000 to 60,000, the only way to alleviate the strain was to ship people to Auschwitz in the infamous transports. Its strongest claim to infamy is that it was used for propaganda purposes: the Nazis allowed two Red Cross visits to the camp to show how well they were treating the inmates. A film was even made there, showing how good the conditions supposedly were (we were shown the film in the museum at the end of the tour).

I am not going to write any more about the purpose of Terezin or what happened there: the link provided above and the link in yesterday's blog will tell more than I can ever do. Any words which I might write would only cheapen the memory of Czech Jewry.

There isn't that much to see in the trip to Terezin: the Small Fortress has been left virtually intact, displaying its mind-numbing cruelty, but this was used as a Gestapo installation, mainly for Czech political prisoners, not necessarily Jewish. In fact, its most famous prisoner was Gavrilo Princip, who assassinated Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria and his wife on June 28, 1914,  leading to the First World War. Princip died from tuberculosis on April 28, 1918. The Ghetto, as opposed to the Small Fortress, does not really exist anymore, and only a few buildings have remained as a reminder of what was.

456 Jews from Denmark were sent to Theresienstadt in 1943. These were Jews who had not escaped to Sweden before the arrival of the Nazis. Included also in the transports were some of the European Jewish children whom Danish organizations had been attempting to conceal in foster homes. The arrival of the Danes is of great significance, as the Danes insisted on the Red Cross's having access to the ghetto. This was a rare move, given that most European governments did not insist on their fellow Jewish citizens being treated according to some fundamental principles. The Danish king, Christian X, later secured the release of the Danish internees on April 15, 1945. The White Buses, in cooperation with the Danish Red Cross, collected the 413 who had survived.

The guides mentioned that even after the War finished, over 1,000 Jews died in Terezin as a result of typhus. After the war, Czech nationals of German parentage who served in the Wehrmacht were imprisoned in the Small Fortress, and it seemed that the ethnic Czechs performed a little ethnic cleansing of their own, in retaliation for what had happened before. I do not condone this.

According to the guide, during the Communist years, Terezin was left abandoned, and that it was only in 1996 that the site was restored and open to the public, thus informing people of a certain age about events which they never knew took place. I saw yesterday evening a poster advertising the 'Museum of Communism'; I imagine that this is not a particularly popular place to visit but I do wonder what kind of exhibits they show. Checking (sorry) its site, I see that it's only about ten minutes from where we are, so maybe I'll visit this afternoon.

Karlovy Vary

If there need be a motto for our trip, it is the Israeli expression "More luck than sense", or in English, serendipity.

I think that I first heard about Karlovy Vary via the novels of John Le Carré, primarily "A Perfect Spy". The character Axel comes from KV - or maybe he comes from Carlsbad (the German name) - but one way or another, he says that he comes from a place that no longer exists (I think that he means that he was ethnic German, and all the Germans were expelled from KV after the Second World War). Presumably because of that mystery, I started investigating this place, and I recall that at one time I tried to persuade my wife that maybe we should spend a week in KV, making a day trip to Prague. She made the more reasonable suggestion that we spend a week in Prague, making a day trip to KV.

KV is a spa town; in researching our options, it appeared that all the spas were connected to hotels, and as we weren't staying in a hotel, it seemed that our chances of having a massage and some form of hydrotherapy (balneological treatment) weren't very high.

In order to get to KV, we would have to take a inter-city bus, and in order to take the bus, we had to get to the Florenc bus station. Although I believe that this is no more than a ten minute walk from our hotel, we decided to take the metro, thus adding to our Prague experiences. The B train stop underneath Namesti Republiky is very steep, so much so that I couldn't look down when we were riding the escalators to the platform. Apart from this, the metro is similar (though much simpler) than the London Underground, so we had no problems here, nor in the bus station where we bought tickets for the bus. The tickets are all numbered and are for specific times, like an aeroplane. When trying to buy return tickets, we were asked what time we intended to return, and as we didn't know, we elected to buy single tickets. Big mistake.

The trip itself took two and a quarter hours which were mildly interesting. On the bus was shown a Hollywood film, but this had been dubbed into Czech so we didn't watch it.

Upon arriving in KV, we wandered around a little until I found a sign for City Information. Following our noses, we arrived a bit later at the Elisabeth Spa (the photograph does not do the building justice).

As the information office was closed, we decided to have a pot of tea in the restaurant (the three bay windows in the front of the building on the first floor). After this relaxation, we found the office, which sold us a guide to KV, and there they said that this spa was open to all visitors! So we found where we could book treatments and ordered a full massage for my wife and a herbal bath for myself. The prices were about a third of what we would have paid in Israel.

The herbal bath treatment means getting naked into a huge bathtub which was full of warm, green coloured water, bearing a smell similar to my herbal shampoo. Once in, the attendant turned a tap on, and air started bubbling through the water; this was so strong that at first it blew me out of the water, until I figured out how to keep myself submerged (everything bar the head). After fifteen minutes of this (measured by alarm clock), I rang for the attendant; she helped me out of the bath and then enclosed me in a cotton sheet. From there she took me to an examination couch in the room, told me to lie down and then covered me with a heavy blanket. This was similar to being in a straight-jacket. I was to lie there for seven minutes (again by the clock), at which point the treatment would be over. So lie there I did, then managed to get free from the blanket and got dressed. I'm not exactly sure what this treatment did for me, but my wife thoroughly enjoyed her massage.

Noticing that it was now nearly 4pm (and we were intending to catch the 7pm bus back to Prague), I suggested that we up our pace a little. We walked back to the Post Office (we had been there on our way to the Elisabeth Spa) and were about to start the tour described in the booklet when I noticed that there was a market on the bank of the Tepla river). So of course, my wife had to browse there for at least half an hour, spending what seemed to be an inordinate amount of time in choosing a nail file for our daughter. Once we got past the market, we walked a little into town and then took a path through a wood overlooking the town; this lead to a vantage point which gave us an excellent view of all the buildings in the area. From there, we walked back down to the colonnade and strolled around.

The buildings themselves and the way that they were laid out seemed very reminiscent of Bournemouth (where my mother lived for a while), and when reading the booklet, I came across the sentence "This stately building, which was built in the Neo-Gothic style typical of England, was opened on May 1st, 1866", thus making it contemporary with Bournemouth. After more walking around and eating a very late lunch (or early supper) in a restaurant, we made our way to the bus stop where we had dismounted in the morning.

When looking for somewhere to buy tickets, it became apparent that we weren't at the main bus station but rather a stop for local buses. So we had to walk another kilometre to the main station; the time was fast approaching 7pm. We arrived at the station and saw the bus waiting; I ran upstairs to the ticket office which was just about to close and ordered tickets, only to be told that the 7pm bus was full and that we would have to travel on the 8pm bus. OK. The girl demanded cash (as opposed to the credit card with which I had paid in the morning) and gave me my ticket. Here is where things get a bit funny. Although I paid her the same amount of money that I had paid in the morning (for two tickets), I became convinced that I had only paid for one seat on the bus, and the ticket appeared to uphold this theory. So it looked like I would have to wait for the bus to arrive and all the passengers to get on before we could see whether there was any room left.

No one was at the bus station until about 7:50pm, when suddenly people descended from all over the place. We spoke to the 'flight' atttendant, and she said that the bus was fully booked, and that we could only get on if someone did not arrive to claim their place. There were a couple of girls in the same situation as us, so it wasn't clear that there would be any spare place at all. Come 8pm, there are still four seats vacant on the bus (one of those is ours), so we give the ticket to the attendant and she smiles us on and refused payment from me. It turns out that I had bought a double ticket after all!

Very very relieved, we got onto the bus which made its way back to Prague, arriving at 10:15pm. More fun and games trying to find the metro station's entrance and our destination station's exit, but that was par for the course, and we arrived back at the hotel, tired but happy, at around 10:30pm.

More luck than sense - despite prior research which indicated that we would not be able to get a massage in KV, we stumbled onto the one spa which does give treatment to non-residents. The bus incident was another example.

My wife worked for a while in a travel agency near the kibbutz; there she met a lady who has since become our personal travel agent, booking the flights (I normally book the hotels). She had recommended not going to KV for unknown reasons, and my wife has declared that she will set the travel agent straight.

Prague log #3

As we had decided the day before, yesterday we went straight to the Astronomical Clock, arriving there in plenty of time for the 10 o'clock "performance". I used the time to find a good spot, as far away as possible from the clock whilst still being straight in front, and checked camera angles and zoom. When the clock did chime, I was able to see the 12 apostles being displayed by the clock; there was also enough time to zoom to the clock tower and film a close-up of the trumpeter.

From the clock, we walked from the square to a different exit which lead us to Josefov, the Jewish quarter. Maybe it was the road's name, Parizska, which triggered my subconscious, but all morning the roads and the ambience caused me to think that we were in Paris.

From Parizska, we walked to Maiselov and began the 'Jewish tour'. The first stop was the Maiselov Synagogue, which has been turned into a museum. Inside were displayed articles from the Moravian and Bohemian Jewish communities: various religious utensils which were used to adorn the sifrei torah (I don't know what the gentiles would call these), menorot ("candelabra" which we use during the Chanuka festival), kiddush cups, curtains which cover the ark in which are stored the sifrei torah, special prayers written to commemorate events in history (such as the battles against the Swedish invasion of the 30 year war). The earliest articles were dated to the end of the 15th century, with most of them coming from the 19th century. This was a time when those communities thrived and even received special charters from Charles IV (also displayed, although I think that these were facsimiles). Unfortunately, things were to change in the twentieth century....

The hall itself was very crowded with people; this is partially because it is relatively a small space so any number of people within is going to make it seem crowded, but also because it seems that many tour groups cover these sites. I found myself wondering all morning what these people would make of the synagogue and its display; I suppose it's like when I have toured medieval cathedrals; I can admire the various displays without necessarily knowing the emotional baggage.

From there, a short walk lead us to the Pinhas synagogue; this too has been decommissioned, although male visitors were strongly encouraged to cover their heads as the traditional Jewish mark of respect (I saw several males with uncovered heads, one woman with a covered head (a Reform Jewess, as my wife suggested, but I think that it was more out of ignorance but maybe respect) and one youth who placed his kipa on top of his hat). If the Maiselov synagogue was a testament to the golden days of the 18-19th centuries, then the Pinhas synagogue was testament to the defining event of European Jewry in the 20th century: the Holocaust. There were no items on display; the walls were covered - without bare patches - with the names of over 80,000 members of the Jewish communities of Prague, Brno and other Czech towns who were exterminated in the concentration camps of the Nazis.

Tears naturally came to my eyes then, and I am crying (or more accurately, leaking tears) as I write these words now, in the safety of my hotel room. Again, the museum was crowded, and it seemed that German was the dominant language being spoken. I wonder how much those people - some older than me, who would have been babies at the end of the war, and some youngsters still at school - understand and what they feel. Are they detached from the abominable activities of a misguided generation or two? Are they ashamed of their country's modern history?

Upstairs was an exhibit of children's drawings mainly done in the Terezin (Theresienstadt) Concentration Camp (we will be visiting there tomorrow, so I won't write any exposition today). I don't recall ever seeing similar displays in the Holocaust Museum in Jerusalem, although the above article on Terezin suggests otherwise. There is so much to see in Jerusalem - and most of that through tears - that it is not surprising that some things remain hidden from the consiousness.

The path from the synagogue leads directly into the old Jewish cemetery. As in common with all cemeteries, it is very quiet here, with only a whispered commentary from the tour groups breaking the silence. My wife remarked that the stones were placed in such a way that it was impossible to know where each separate grave was; I pointed out that the gravestones had probably been collected and placed in the best way possible. The sanctity of the graves themselves was not the point, but rather the huge collection of stones - dating from the 15th century. As opposed to modern gravestones whose paltry text state the name and dates of the deceased, these stones were covered in writing from top to bottom. We couldn't make out much of the text, but what could be deciphered tended to be religious writings and not personal details.

The graveyard leads into another synagogue converted into a museum, the Klausova. After the emotional stress of the past hour or so, we were content to sit on a bench, look around the crowded room and get our emotions back in order. From there, we found ourselves back in Prague, or should I say, Paris? We crossed a main road and found ourselves in a quiet street with no tour groups, and in fact, few pedestrians. We entered a small tea-room which could have been transported brick by brick from Paris, and enjoyed a quiet cup of tea. The name of the road is Bilkova; from there we walked to Kozi which lead to Dlouha, all the time the roads being more and more populated, but enjoyable all the same. No tour groups, very quiet and very beautiful. Dlouha ends on Revoluchni, a main thoroughfare, which leads of course to Namesti Republiky and our hotel.

We ate lunch at a Chinese restaurant in the Palladium shopping centre, which is where we seem to spend most afternoons. We are girding ourselves to trying sushi but at the moment are sticking to chicken dishes that we know and like. After lunch, we shopped (and shopped and shopped). Unless my calculations regarding the exchange rate are seriously wrong, clothes are incredibly cheap here and my wife was in heaven. I found several jackets which roughly were what I wanted (in the bargain basement of Marks and Spencer, to be accurate), costing 899 CHK. I tried a few on, but they were either not wide enough around the body or else the arms were too long. Enter a saleswoman who may not know English but does know her jackets: 44 short she kept on saying and eventually found a jacket with the correct measurements. 44 chest to cover my barrel-like middle age pouch, and short arms.Yes!

A neighbouring C&A seemed like a bargain basement, selling shirts at give-away prices. My wife snatched a few hoodies for our son, I bough some corduroy jeans and she bought herself some items. I jokingly suggested that we buy items in order to sell them in Israel at twice the price, which still would be less that the comparative Israeli price, thus financing our trip.

Eventually we finished, drank a concluding pot of tea in a coffee bar (again, the tea seems cheap, 50CHK, which I calculate to be less than half the equivalent price in Israel, and this is for a pot of tea, which yields nearly two large cups) and then back to the hotel to unpack, get organised and do Internet research for the days to come. The program seems to be:

Thursday (today) - Karlovy Vary by bus

Friday - Terezin, organised tour

Saturday - flea market in Prague, including journey by Metro

Sunday - to be announced

Monday - flying to Malta

Prague log #2

There isn't much to add to the log for our first day. After getting settled in the hotel, we walked to the nearby Namesti Republicky (Republic Square) which is a huge concourse with several roads leading off it. After a few wrong turns, we found the street that we wanted, which housed a T-mobile shop; here we bought a local Czech SIM card for my wife's mobile phone, thus enabling her to call me, me to call her and the children to call her.

By the time we finished there, we discovered that we were ravenous so we stopped at the first restaurant that we found and had a meal (too much salt). From there, we walked back to the hotel and rested a while. Later on, we went to the huge Palladium shopping centre, which is literally a stone's throw from the hotel; we each drank a pot of tea in order to revive ourselves and then checked out the variety of stores. Most of them seemed to be women's clothing, which means paradise for my wife and boredom for me. We found a big bookshop, but of course all the title are in Czech.... After leaving the shopping centre, we rambled a bit outside (actually getting a little lost, but I have an inertial guiding system in my head so we reached the hotel without difficulty. Even though it was only about 7pm, we went to bed, as the lack of sleep had been getting to both of us.

Day 2

We woke at around 6:30am; I did my daily chores on the computer, and then we had a sumptuous breakfast in the hotel's dining room which was fairly full. When we hit the streets, they were pleasantly empty - there were a few tour groups but they weren't a hindrance. From our central location, we located the Powder Tower (a very imposing - and tall - building) and behind it, Celetna street which would take us to the Old Town Hall and a major square. We walked down the narrow street, mainly admiring the architecture; one has to look more up in Prague than down, as the buildings are tall and the architectural frivolies are outstanding.

In the Old Town square is located the Astronomical Clock; unfortunately we just missed its 9am call.

From there we carried on into the old city (it's like Jerusalem!) until we found the Charles Bridge. We crossed this slowly and made our way into the little 'Venice' section at the other end, which was charming. Part of it also reminded me of a French boulevard. Whilst the bridge had been moderately crowded, this part was fairly empty which added to its charm. After resting a while and drinking an ice cream sundae, we took one of the boat cruises, which started off in the mock canal (which apparently featured in the first 'Mission Impossible' film, masquerading as the real Venice) and then continued onto the Vltava, where we changed onto a bigger boat.

After the boat trip, we checked out the Charles Bridge museum, which although small was interesting, showing how the bridge had been built and how it had been renovated. From there, we saw that we had about ten minutes to get back to the Astronomical Clock before it chimed 3pm, so we fairly ran through the now crowded streets in order to get there in time. Just as we arrived, the clock chimed, a trumpeter (live) blew a fanfare from the tower's top ... and that was it. Maybe we were missing something. I intend to go back again this morning, when there are fewer people and check what is happening, because the Wikipedia page says that there is more to meet the eye.

Returning via Celetna, we stopped in the souvenir stores which we had studiously ignored in the morning, and my wife bought all manner of Czech souvenirs. The most interesting was a little shop which we found buried in a sidestreet, featuring little 'sculptures' of objects made solely of nuts and bolts. We bought a small chicken, mouse and dog (if I remember correctly), but there were much bigger pieces. Imagine trying to get them past customs....

After another rest in the hotel and sorting our possessions out, we went to the shopping centre again,  to eat a passable Pizza. This time we found all the shops selling clothes for men - they're simply on a different floor to the women's shops. We tried to find a linen jacket for me; it took some explaining from me before my wife understood what I wanted. Eventually we found something good - only it was too small and they didn't have anything larger.

From there to gentle (as Robert Fripp tends to write). More days await us.

Prague log #1

It's 10:30 on a sunny Monday morning and we have just arrived in Prague for a week's stay. Our hotel room was ready and waiting, there is an adequate wireless Internet connection, and the signs could not be better.

The trip did not start on the right foot, though. Friday night/Saturday was Yom Kippur, the most holy Jewish day; unfortunately, I woke up at 6am, and although I rested most of the day, and dozed for a few hours, I was unable to get to sleep at night. I eventually fell asleep at about 1:30am, and was up again at 5:30am on Sunday. Our flight was scheduled to leave Tel Aviv airport at 5am on Monday morning, which meant that we had to be there at around 2:30, which meant getting up at around 1:15am. Although I went to lie down at around 9pm, I was too agitated to sleep, so basically I've been awake since yesterday morning. I am quite tired.

Even though we did in fact arrive at the airport at 2:30am, there were crowds at passport control and personal luggage checking, which meant that we didn't clear these sections till about 3:50am. As we had to board at 4:30am, there wasn't much time left for duty free shopping and other activities. I had intended to get out the computer for some work, but it was clear that there would be no free time.

About a month and a half ago, I and my wife were issued American Express credit cards. The way in which we were approached raised my antennae, and for a few hours I thought that we had been victims of a scam, but it all seems to be above board. One of the perks of the card is free entrance to the VIP lounge at Ben Gurion airport, and this trip seemed the ideal opportunity for testing the perk.

As we had so little time, we could only spend about ten minutes in the lounge. By this time, I was almost shaking from low sugar, so I very quickly ate a few biscuits and drank a bottle of fruit juice (all free). My wife had some crackers and tea. It's a shame that we were only there for a short period; next time, we will try to have a longer stay in the lounge. When we leave Prague, we will fly for a few days to Malta before returning home, so we will have the opportunity of testing the equivalent Prague VIP lounge. Although we have a certain amount of 'perk' as regarding the lounge, we also have to pay $27 to gain entrance, and I am not sure that we will get our money's worth.

My wife is unpacking at the moment; afterwards we'll probably have lunch and hit the town.

A twilight health stage

To quote Michael Covington, "The astute reader will surmise that I'm working hard on something other than writing blog entries". I wish this were true about me. I have been suffering from a presumably viral infection that frequently elevates my body temperature (but never to more than 37.5 degrees), makes me cough on and off, and generally leaves me listless without causing any great pain.

It's also the holiday season in Israel. Last week we had four days off from work (wed-thur-fri-sat), although Wednesday was a 'compulsory' day which will be deducted from my holiday allotment. Next week there are two days off and again the week after. This is an ideal time to go somewhere for a holiday, and indeed, next Monday morning we (my wife and I) are flying to Prague for a week, and then continuing to Malta for another four nights. I hope that I feel better before we go.

I'm not exactly busy at work which is just as well as I don't think that I have enough strength to cope should the need for my services heat up. I'm too well to stay at home but not really well enough to be at work: a twilight health stage.

Ian Rankin: "The Complaints"

After Rankin's literary creation DI John Rebus took compulsory retirement, it is now the turn of Inspector Malcolm Fox to star in Rankin's novels. Fox is almost the complete opposite of Rebus: Rebus was in CID, Fox in Complaints and Conduct (specifically the Professional Standards Unit, which investigates 'bent coppers'). Rebus was a hard drinker and smoker, whereas Fox is teetotal and a non-smoker. Rebus is a loner, whereas Fox has a sister and a father whom he visits all the time.

So the stage was set for a different kind of novel, showing police work from a different angle. And indeed, 'The Complaints' starts out completely differently from a Rebus novel. But after four or five chapters, suddenly the style of the novel became familiar. Fox gets suspended but continues investigating; the plot thickens and thickens and only Fox is able to get the insights which lead him to a conclusion. In effect, this is a Rebus novel without Rebus.

That isn't to say that this is a bad novel; on the contrary, it is gripping, intriguing, full of suspense and one is never sure where it is going to lead. Those who enjoy the Rebus novels which enjoy this one as well. But I had expected a different style, and in this Rankin does not deliver. One aspect which did not exist in the Rebus novels is the family: Fox feels responsible for his father who is living in an old age home. The episodes are handled very realistically.

Nitpicking: there is a conversation between Fox and a bouncer. The latter was released from prison just under two years ago, yet he is the father of an eighteen month old child. Assuming that there were no conjugal visits, the age of the child doesn't add up (unless of course the bouncer is not the biological father).

Fox is not a music lover like Rebus. Instead of listening to the Rolling Stones and dropping musical references all over the place, Fox might listen to FM Classical but generally listens to a radio channel called 'Birdsong' which plays ... continuous birdsong. But Rankin still manages to drop in a subtle in-joke: one of Fox's colleagues is called Tony Kaye, which just happens to be the name of the original organist in Yes.

The Swell Season/The Frames

After writing my previous entry, I thought that it would be a good idea to check what Glen Hansard sounded like prior to The Swell Season. I downloaded a few Frames' records (don't worry: they are all deleted now for reasons which will shortly become clear) and listened to them on the way to and from my Friday MBA lecture. The songs varied from the innocuous to the annoying, with only one song - an instrumental - really finding favour (and typically, this instrumental seems to be completely different from everything else, as if it were a different group playing). It was interesting to note that two songs which appear on The Swell Season (ie the eponymous first album) also appear on The Frames' "The Cost" album, "Falling slowly" and "When your mind's made up".

The latter opens with two electric guitars playing similar but not identical arpeggio patterns, which makes for interesting listening via headphones. The arrangement is almost identical to the later versions, although the 'instrumental freak-out' section is over the top here. I would rate this to be at about 80% of the later, clearer, arrangements. I note that the piano arrangement seems to be note for note the same in all the versions.

On the other hand, "Falling slowly" loses all its charm when interpreted by a band and without female harmony vocals. This initial version sounds very basic, and the overly simple tune is exposed mercilessly. This would rate about 25% compared to later versions.

In other words, the standard rock group setup of The Frames (taking into account that they have a violinist) does not excite my ears. Paring down the sound (and especially removing the drums) and adding the string instruments definitely improves the songs.

Please let me know you listen to a group that plays songs with acoustic and chamber like arrangements. Let not the songs be all fey and magical, such as the Incredible String Band.

Updates (mainly The Swell Season)

I reread the first half of 'Bad boy' again earlier in the week. When writing about the book two weeks ago, I mentioned that I didn't find any major mistakes in it. This time around, I noticed a rather subtle mistake concerning Tracy Banks and her mobile phone; the mistake probably arises from a sentence being deleted from the text of the book - it's not a logical mistake as were the others.

Over the past six months, I've been listening very frequently to the Swell Season. The first item of theirs which I bought was the deluxe version of 'Strict Joy', which comes as a three disc set. The first disc is the 'Strict Joy' album itself; the second is a live concert, and the third is a dvd containing interviews along with some of the performances which are on the second disc. I bought this package from amazon.co.uk, which sold it at a very reasonable price, and only slightly more expensive than the one cd version (which is why I bought the deluxe set). Amazon.com is quoting the limited version at almost twice the price of the standard disc, so it's worth shopping around.

There's a very interesting song on 'Strict Joy': 'Love that conquers'. The opening instrumental phrase (which is repeated almost ad nauseam) is in 5/4, which allows one to excuse the lack of harmonic activity. But when Glen begins to sing, suddenly the time signature is 6/4! Is the previous bar lengthened or is it the sung bar? Does it matter. Then it's back to 5/4 for a few more instrumental bars, and then bang! Back to 6/4 for a line. Later on in the song, Glen and Marketa add a few more syllables to the lines which are sung in 7/4. They must have had fun recording this.

About a month ago, I found a copy of their film, 'Once', on the Internet and eagerly downloaded it. I now discover that Amazon (UK) are selling it for a pittance - but either way, the film is without the Hebrew subtitles which are so important for my wife. In fact, most of the Dublin accents are so strong that I miss a fair amount of the dialogue as well. Maybe one day it will be screened here.

The film opens with Glen Hansard in the same position (but ten or more years older) as he was at the end of 'The Commitments' - busking in Grafton Street. The film was enjoyable, but not outstanding; it's more enjoyable for me watching them make music. There is an amusing scene where Marketa Irglova brings her Hoover to be repaired; she drags it around, making it look like she's taking her dog for a walk. Here's an interview which I've just found about the making of the film.

After watching the film, I felt compelled to order the original 'Swell Season' cd. The arrangements of this album are much more 'chamber' style - guitar, piano, violin and cello - and preferable to my ears that the slightly rocked up versions on the 'Strict Joy' live disc. It's the drums that do the damage. I also prefer the sound of their initial disc to the sound of 'Strict Joy'. It's a shame that they didn't use any wind instruments - an oboe, Uilleann pipes or even a flute would have been a welcome addition.

More inbasket

About a month ago, I started measuring access to this blog and also joined the Amazon Associates program. Whilst the number of people reading this blog is hardly astronomical, there are more hits than I had expected (and unfortunately, a certain percentage of those belong to me).

Surprisingly, the most popular page on this blog is the original post about the Inbasket exam. I imagine that most of the people reading the page wanted to know how to pass the exam successfully and presumably hoped to find some hints. If that is the case, then I'm sure that they were disappointed. There isn't really any way to learn how to pass such exams; the key is to practice on existing exams and to have a great deal of common sense. The exam is testing one's ability to deal with happening events in a reasonable order, and that's not something which can be easily taught.

This reminds me of an issue in the MBA organisational behaviour course, when the subject was leadership; the lecturer said that the Americans believe that everything can be taught, whereas the British tend to believe that leadership is a part of one's personality and is composed of several smaller components. The inbasket exam is similar to a leadership exam; either one has it or one doesn't.

Anyway ... this being the most popular post, it only goes to reason that I have actually earned a few cents by someone clicking on the book reference given on that page, and even apparently buying the book.

In the mean time, the Occupational Psychologist has developed a new exam, this time for the manager of a non-residential old age activity centre. I asked her how she managed to develop the exam so quickly and she said that it was a combination of interviewing people who work in such a centre along with adapting existing material. A few people took this new exam, which revealed yet again a few more bugs. The DLL plugin approach to the exam proved itself in quickly allowing us to implement a new exam.

I often read blogs about entrepreneurial enterprises; this blog  is very lucid on the subject:

"To summarize: Anything that can be copied will be copied, including features, marketing copy, and pricing. Anything you read on popular blogs is also read by everyone else. You don't have an 'edge' just because you're passionate, hard-working, or 'lean'. The only real competitive advantage is that which cannot be copied and cannot be bought. Like what?"

The psychological testing clinic (I have to find a better name in English) is not the only one of its kind in Israel, but we are definitely in a niche market. The competitive advantage that we have is the in-house development of the computerised exams. For example, we are considering the use of the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory (MMPI); this is a standard psychological exam, although intended for more pathological use than we generally need. One can read about the exam on the Internet and even buy books which give the questions (I don't know whether one needs to be a licensed psychologist in order to do, but I imagine not). Our advantage is that we can quickly take the Hebrew version of this exam and computerise it; our even bigger advantage is that we can then generate both standardised and customised reports from the standard data.

But our biggest advantage is that the OP is interested in expanding both the range of our services and their quality (ie new reports, etc). Whilst my contribution is not trivial, I am only shaping/sculpting information which is given to me; the jewels - the psychological knowledge - come from the OP.

Again, the inbasket exam framework is a huge advantage which enables us to move into unexploited territory with little difficulty.

Bad boy

With very little fanfare, the nineteenth book in the DCI Banks series, "Bad boy", was published a week ago. Amazon had been plugging it for only three weeks before its publishing date so the gap between knowing about the book's existence and reading it was fairly short.

Most of Peter Robinson's books tend to start slowly and build up steam as they progress, and this book is no exception to that rule. In fact, this one started so slowly that it took almost half the book before its pace became more than leisurely. Contributing to this is the fact that DCI Banks is on holiday in San Francisco when the story begins and there is a great deal of development before he returns to Eastvale.

In Banks' absence, most of the story (until his return) is told through the eyes of his colleague DI Annie Cabbot. She has been the third party limited narrator in previous books but has always had to 'share the stage' with Banks. Here the first hundred or so pages come from her point of view, and when the book does switch to another character's pov, it is that of Tracy Banks (DCI Banks' daughter, who until now has been a peripheral character - more mentioned than actually present - in most of the books).

This book is not a classical police procedural; there is no murder to be solved, but the book does present much more police procedure than one normally gets in a novel. Judging by the acknowledgments at the end of the book, author Robinson got most of this material directly from the real police. As such, this is not another in the regular Banks series, where Banks has to outwit someone who committed a murder at the beginning of the book. Instead this is a less cerebral and more action focused story - which does not centre around Banks (at least, not until the end).

In my one read through of the book (which probably was taken at a faster pace than I will take in the future), I didn't notice any glaring mistakes. In previous books, I've found a few; the first time I pointed the mistake out to author Robinson, but as he notes on his website,

By the time a book goes to press, it has been read by about twenty people, many of them professionals in the book business, and still mistakes slip through. They always will. It’s human nature. You might think you’re the first person to notice that Banks’s eyes are blue on page 53 and grey on page 314, but you’re probably not. And sometimes these gentle admonishments come at quite the wrong moment. When you’re having a difficult time with the book you’re writing, the last thing you want is some smart Alec telling you there’s something wrong with your last book!

In 'Strange Affair', Annie Cabbott eats meat after having been a strict vegetarian in all the books; in another, Banks leaves a hotel room without turning off the television, but when he returns, he turns it back on (maybe the maid turned it off in his absence). Rereading "Innocent graves" a week ago, I found a very subtle error in which the location of an interview is given wrongly. But as I say, 'Bad boy' doesn't seem to have such an error.

This is similar to continuity problems in films: very rarely is the viewer aware of such problems as she is too caught up in the story to notice, but watching the film at a slower pace will often reveal a multitude of errors.

I assume that Robinson has reached the limit of the traditional police procedural and is now extending his range, utilising the same cast of characters but on solving problems other than murder. As such, his actions are to be applauded - because otherwise it would be very hard to explain the high murder rate of Eastvale, a fictitious setting for what was once a small town and now seems to have grown to alarming proportions.

Unlike other of his novels, this book didn't touch a nerve in context of its background material, for example  "Piece of the heart" or "Close to home" (aka "The summer that never was"). As such, it becomes an exciting read but not a novel from which my life might be enriched, or cause me to think about similar events which might have occurred in my life.

Looking at the other reviews currently at Amazon, they all say that this is Robinson's worst book in the series. Whilst it is far from being the best, it is also different from the others (a fact which I tried to point out two paragraphs earlier) and as such should not necessarily be compared to the others. At least it has a definite storyline with a beginning, a middle and an end, which is more than the previous 'experimental novel', "All the colours of darkness", had.

Back to school

Today was the first day of the autumn semester of my MBA programme. On the drive there, it was as if the car knew where to go, in the same way that superdog knows the route of our twice daily walks (sometimes I change it just to confuse her). On Fridays, the lectures are in two shifts: from 8-11am, and from 11:15-14:15. I prefer to have lectures in the first shift, but this semester mine are in the second shift. As today is the first day of term when the lecture kits are distributed, I turned up early so that I would definitely be on time for the lecture. As it happens, there was no queue for the kits so I had at least half an hour to kill after receiving the kit. I spoke a little with the course director, checking my future plans, and he also disclosed my result in the economics exam (a very respectable 71).

This semester I am taking the project management course, which should be very useful in the day job. Whilst in a sense almost all of my work could be considered to be composed of projects, strictly speaking a project has to involve more than one person. In this case, the column which I wrote two months ago describes what is a project by every definition, and is sorely lacking management. I am tempted to take some of the material which was presented today and apply this to the MTD project, showing where it is failing (although I know full well where the problem lies, without knowing anything about project management).

Ironically this evening I was looking for some material about in-basket exams on the internet and found a series of three blogs on the subject, ironically from a blog which is mainly about project management. I intend to visit this site more frequently.

The in-basket 6

Until now, in discussing the inbasket exam, I've only written about how the exam has been implemented and the various programming techniques necessary. Now it's time to stand back a little and look at the larger issues of the exam. But first a little debugging....

This time last week, the exam underwent its baptism of fire and was used with 'real live' examinees. The person running the lab contacted me as he was unable to get the database version of the exam to run, so I made a remote connection and transferred the new dll version of the exam (which had not been completed debugged).

In the evening,  I remote connected again to the testing lab and downloaded three result files for examination. It immediately became clear that there were several errors in the file structure, some of which were easily correctable and some were somewhat harder. After 'massaging' the text file (and simultaneously correcting the exam program so that it will produce the correct format the next time it will be run), they were in a form which could be read in to the database and could produce reasonable results.

Meeting with the OP the next day, she informed me that four people had undertaken the exam. Where was the fourth person's results? I hadn't seen a fourth text file anywhere, but we found written confirmation that there was a fourth person who had undergone the test (it seemed possible to me that a fourth person was supposed to have undergone the test but did not). When checking on which computer this fourth person had used, I saw that the dll version of the exam had not been installed there; had the person undergone the test using the database version, the results would have gone directly into the database - and I overwrote the database in the morning as its structure had changed slightly. What could we do?

The answer of course is use the backup (which is done every evening to one of two external hard drives). We found the backed up database file and I was able to ascertain that the fourth person's results were indeed stored within the database. I took this file (taking care to rename it) and then wrote a one-off program to extract the results in the required text format.

When this file was read into the (new) database, a few new bugs became apparent, mainly connected with the handling of instant messages. I wondered why the first three files had not surfaced these problems; checking the answers carefully, it became apparent that there were no results for the im's in the result file. I checked the program code and saw that the results should have been written to the file, and even underwent the quick and dirty demo exam in order to confirm that the im's results were written.

It then became clear that the instant messages had not been displayed in the 'real' exam. Via the debugger, I ran the exam with the 'real' inbasket dll and saw that there was a bug in the code which was responsible for finding an instant message to be displayed (the equivalent of an sql query). The bug itself was in the resource file, not in the program code, meaning that the real bug was in the code which outputted the resource file. Like all bugs, hard to find but easy to fix.

So now we have a (hopefully) completely debugged exam. What can we do with it? Unfortunately, most of the analysis of the results would seem to be 'analogue' - text only, analysis by the psychologist, based on what was written, how it was written, to whom it was written, etc. There doesn't seem to be a standard 'key' by which the exam results could be marked. This is in contrast with the accounting exam which I converted; this exam differs from the 'real' exam in that the accounting exam requires the examinee to place several tasks in correct order (there are various constraints which force the order) but require minimal replies, whereas the 'real' exam's value is based on the replies themselves and not on the order in which they were dealt with.

What 'digital' results can I produce from the data? I had considered something like 'average time that message is displayed on screen', as we had noticed that one examinee seemed to take a long time to answer messages whereas another answered very quickly. This idea was discarded because theoretically an examinee could open all the messages in the inbox (thus having several simultaneously open windows) and then decide which to answer first. So the only metric that we currently have is how many times each message has been answered. Most messages should only be answered once, but some might (and some have to) be answered more than once. This metric shows the results in a concise format.

Following on from this, I am considering a metric in which we will see how many times a message was closed without it being answered. I am not convinced of the value of such a metric; just because it will be easy to write does not mean that it has any value. I noticed than one of the examinees was constantly opening and closing messages without answering them, and this metric will give such behaviour a numerical value. I am not qualified to determine whether such a numerical value has any psychological value.

As I wrote earlier, the successful implementation of the inbasket exam (as a framework) allows us to incorporate exams which are suited to different fields, thus allowing the OP and her staff to enter the recruitment field, either as primary recruiters (which might be considered as diluting the consultancy's core business) or as secondary recruiters (supplying evaluations to an outside recruiting company). I am also considering showing the exam to people at work; we no longer have a HR function within the company and people seem to be hired willy-nilly. Use of the test will allow us to winnow out people and concentrate on more successful applicants (not that there are many jobs being offered, if at all).

Tuna mousse

Last week, my wife and I were invited to a party hosted by a couple on the kibbutz. The food was all non-meat and included two fish mousses: one made from tuna and one made from salmon. They both were very tasty and seemed simple to make, so I downloaded a recipe and tried my hand.

Here is the recipe:

1 170g can of tuna, drained

1 small onion, chopped

6 tablespoons of mayonnaise

1 tablespoon of ketchup  (this may well be unnecessary)

1 teaspoon of vinegar

1 sachet of gelatin

150 ml boiling water

150 ml cold water

I mixed the tuna, onion, mayonnaise, ketchup and vinegar together until a smooth consistency was achieved. The recipe recommends doing this in a food processor but I don't have one. I did try in the blender (which I normally use for milk shakes) but everything clogged up due to a lack of liquid, so this wasn't very successful. Maybe I should try blending only the onions and then add the resulting liquid to the other ingredients.

In a separate bowl, I added the gelatin powder to the water and stirred until all the powder had dissolved. Then I added this liquid to the rest of the ingredients and mixed thoroughly.

The next and final stage of the recipe required me to pour the mixture into a mould and then refrigerate. I don't have such a mould in the kitchen, so I looked for something suitable. Eventually I found two cd containers - I buy disks in bulk in a plastic container with a spindle. The outside cover of the container seemed suitable, so I cleaned two of these (thanking my foresightedness in not throwing the empty ones out) and then poured the tuna mix into them. Playing safe, I put the containers into the freezer.

The next morning, I took the containers and put them in the refridgerator, and in the evening they were suitable for spreading. Both my wife and I had tuna mousse on bread for dinner, and the results were encouraging. I thought that there was too much onion but my wife thought otherwise. If I were serving the mousse on a plate, I would probably use an ice cream scoop in order to transfer the mousse to the plate.

A simple dish with no cooking: perfect for the summer.

How things have changed

After writing about 'Nice work', I thought that I would check when I bought the book (or at least, first read it). I looked through some letters from around the right time period (the years following 1989), and found that the first reference to the book was in August 1991.

I had to look through 'hard copies' of letters; even though I was using computers to write letters from 1986 or thereabouts, I never saved them as computer files, preferring to save the printed versions instead. As a result, some of the letters are virtually unreadable as they were printed via ribbons whose final days had come. Considering that in those days, the letters would have been simple text files with negligible overheads, storage space must have been at an extreme premium, so much so not to store even a measly 1K. I remember that it was considered a huge win when I found a program which would add an extra sector to a floppy disc, increasing its storage size from 360KB to 410KB. Eventually, I would move to writing letters by email (and those are stored), but in order to do that, I needed that my correspondent also to have email, and that took some time.

Anyway, back to the books. One has to remember that 1991 was still pre-Internet and that one had to rely on book reviews or book clubs in order to learn about new books. It comes back to me that in those days I used to obtain a copy of 'Penguins in Print', a directory which listed all the books that excellent paperback house Penguin had in print and so were theoretically available. I used to go through that directory diligently and compile a list of ISBNs (ie book identity numbers) which would then be ordered when my parents or I went to Britain.

The books used to be so heavy and voluminous that we wouldn't bring them back in our suitcases. Instead, I would have to make parcels and sent them by post. One year, I sent two such parcels but only one of them arrived. For obvious reasons, I don't recall what was in the missing parcel, but I seem to remember that nothing precious was lost. In those days, of course, many books were bought 'on spec', so losing them did not necessarily mean that any book that I really wanted disappeared.

Today I received an email from Amazon, suggesting books that I might like to read. I clicked on an autobiographical book by musician Rick Wakeman and on a neuroscience book, and should I wish, those books will be with me in another week. The only reason that I didn't order is because I'm having problems activating a new credit card and I don't want payment problems with Amazon. How things have changed over the past twenty years.

Similarly with the emails - or anything computerised - if I want to find some text, I use a 'search' function and thousands of files are searched in a few seconds. No more leafing through old letters and having to read them all in order to find a nugget.

I came across a letter from early 1990 in which I was writing about my daughter: she had just turned two. I read the passage to her now, and it was very nostalgic for a moment.