The Penniless Pensioner: Misaligned, Maligned but Marvellous (The Final Version): Chapter 50: Revolt of the Mutants in Montreal: Hijacked by the Sons of Westmount

During packing up in Naples to go to some undetermined destination I received a telephone call from Squid in Montreal. As you may recall Squid was the top man with the United Mutations and I had worked for the United Mutations in New York drafting the Charter of Mutant Rights. You may also further recall it was in New York I had met Ginevra. Sigh.

I don’t really understand the United Mutations. I know they stand for all oppressed mutants in the world. There are body mutants that are missing limbs or are deformed in some way and there are mind mutants categorised as having some form of mental illness. There are also political mutants oppressed by undemocratic forces. Well the body and mind mutants at the Mugless Mental Institute and the Queen Fairy Veterans Hospital had apparently gone on some sort of rampage and Squid needed my legal expertise to deal with the problem as many of the Montreal Mutants had been arrested and Squid asked if I could bail them out. Not exactly up my alley.

My flight from Naples to Montreal was far from uneventful. Over the Atlantic 5 men in kilts hijacked the airplane proclaiming themselves the “Sons of Westmount”. They were tanked up, fittingly, on Johnny Walker Scotch Whisky and were passing huge quantities of gastric gas caused by too much haggis. For a moment I thought I was on an Air India Delhi Belly flight and it wasn’t pleasant.

The Sons of Westmount were hijacking to draw attention to their cause which was freedom from damn Quebec nationalists who wanted to tear the Province of Quebec away from the loving grip of the British monarchy. I certainly supported their cause but not their methods. Holding innocent passengers hostage is a cowardly way to make a political point. Their idol and rallying call was the memory of James Dentalfloss kidnapped and later executed by Freedom Quebec a rowdy and dangerous group of thugs seeking the independence of Quebec from Canada. They had no demands at hand other a few placards stating, “Long Live the Queen” and “Anglophone Power”.

Come to think of it this was a publicity stunt more than a hijacking. They simply shouted out slogans and downed so much scotch from the duty-free cart they were all passed out when the plane landed in Montreal. The police carted them away and all passengers received a coupon for a free pizza next time they were in Naples. Alitalia break the bank hospitality.

A Sons of Westmount hijacker in disguise

Squid was at Dorval Airport in his silver Studebaker. What was going on with the patients at the Mugless Mental Institute and the veterans at the Queen Fairy Veterans Hospital?

The Penniless Pensioner: Misaligned, Maligned but Marvellous (The Final Version): Chapter 49: Good-Bye Naples, Good-Bye Scampia and Good-Bye Don Lupara….for the time being

Seven hours after departing Bucharest I was at my seaside home on the Bay of Naples. Don Lupara called me inviting me to dinner at the “compound” the following day. Perhaps it was my imagination but the scent of Ginevra still lingered in the house that was to be the home of Ginevra and our child. I took a long walk on the beach mostly crying and yelling curses at the ocean at that now crispified Cyclops. I had everything. Cyclops tore it away. I went to pick up a couple of pizzas and a bottle of Piedirossa red wine then turned on the television to watch an unending number of stories chronicling drug gang violence and this was a time that Naples was supposedly at peace!

Don Lupara’s boys came to pick me up and off we sped to the family compound. Malvagia, Lupara’s wife, the sweet old bird she was, gave me a bone crushing hug remarking how thin I was and that I should eat lots of Neapolitan cuisine to fatten up. For Neapolitans food is medicine and it is so irresistible even the terminally ill find it difficult to resist. I hadn’t eaten much in Romania so I was starving and ate like a maniac puffing Malvagia up with pride as she insisted upon preparing all meals despite the fact Lupara could afford Michelin starred chefs! Malvagia’s stuffed veal cutlets could accomplish world peace.

After our feast I waddled over to Don Lupara’s library for grappa and coffee. Nothing like grappa and coffee to clear the mind. Here I was in the room with a vicious killer that executed two teenagers before my eyes yet I loved him like a father. All who loved Ginevra I loved. Isn’t that despicable? Was I equally despicable for terminating Cyclops?

Don Lupara was stooped and in state of exhaustion. With tears rolling down his eyes he thanked me for “disposing of” Cyclops the murdering dog that killed Ginevra. He asked about the fear in Cyclops’ eyes before I pulled the trigger. He had laughed at me and dared me to pull the trigger but I told Don Lupara he had shitted his pants. He showed me Ginevra’s six shooter pistol framed on the wall saying we must never forget.

Don Lupara offered me his business but I refused. He chuckled and said that ordinarily he would have been insulted and killed me but Ginevra would haunt him if he did. After many more grappa’s and tears we said good-bye and in a strange ritual we cut our arms and mixed our bloody limbs together. We were blood brothers…Neapolitan blood brothers to the end and beyond into immortality. My seaside home was mine he said and ordered me to visit every year which on Ginevra’s memory I agreed.

I will miss Malvagia. Her cuisine was always son comforting.

I returned to my villa and cried myself to sleep. I knew that any more involvement in this Scampian narcotic business would come to no good. Time had come to leave Naples, Scampia and Don Lupara. It was back to a mental hospital for me but not as a patient.

The Penniless Pensioner: Misaligned, Maligned but Marvellous (The Final Version):Chapter 48: Rot in Hell Cyclops! May You Be with the Angels Ginevra

OK so I had our Bombay Blues Whisky travelling road show at the J.W. Marriot Bucharest Grand Hotel’s “Voice of America” grand suite. The Romanians tanked up on Bombay Blues Whisky. In fact, twenty bottles of it for 53 people. They scoffed down pounds of Bombay Fried Okra probably not noticing the inferior Albanian okra available on the market. And that Dacian beauty Corina was there batting her eyelashes coquettishly. Over a tumbler of Bombay Blues she repeatedly said I reminded her of someone she was once madly in love with from Canada.

The next day I took a TAROM flight from Bucharest to Braşov. Ginevra’s six shooter was waiting for me at Chez Greasy Goulash a tacky little goulash joint in the backstreets of Braşov. Don Lupara had sent it to his Romanian mob friends for me to pick up. The hollow point bullets had been filled with cyanide. There was also a semi automatic Romanian job a Cugir 2000. A map was given to me pinpointing the exact location of Cyclops in his luxury chalet in the Carpathian Mountains. Off I went. Thank you to the Strigoi.

At dusk I was at the outskirts of Cyclops compound. I could see him through the window drunk as a skunk fondling two very young half naked girls. His lone security guard was out vomiting in the woods. Too much vodka? It was quite simple. I opened the sliding door and shouted Ginevra’s name and emptied Ginevra’s six shooter into the slime bucket’s head. There wasn’t much of it left. I grabbed the two girls Cyclops had been molesting who were pleading for their life but immediately saw I was not intending them any harm. I poured petrol over Cyclops’ body and one of the girls tossed a match on it. Warming up Cyclops for hell.

Warming up Cyclops for his trip over The Acheron River to Hades

The drunken security guard saw Cyclops fall and ran like a bat out of hell. I sped away to Bucharest with the girls in the back of Cyclops’ rusty Dacia. I cried most of the way back to Bucharest. I had thought revenge was sweet but it was bitter. My Strigoi contact took the two girls and one of his men drove them back to Albania to their parents, their home. Ginevra’s six shooter would be returned to Don Lupara. I immediately boarded a flight back to Naples via Rome. What next?

RKS 2025 Wine: Stoney Ridge Estate Winery 2022 Small Lot Gamay Noir

Perhaps there is some comfort looking at this bottle of 2022 Small Lot Gamay Noir from Ontario’s Stoney Ridge. Those grapes saw some summer sun and warmth “cold comfort” to Torontonians facing minus twenty temperatures tonight. I prepared a salad tonight and given the deep freeze I had very little enjoyment of it preferring the warmth of pasta.

Gamay Grapes were mechanically harvested from old vines (1998 planting) at the Bucknall Vineyard in the Vinemount Ridge sub-appellation. Harvest came early with the grapes picked on September 20th 2022 at an average 22.5° brix. After fermentation in a single small stainless-steel vat the wine was racked and put into 100% 1-year old American Oak barrels where 80% malolactic fermentation was allowed to occur. After 9 months in barrel the final blend was produced and bottled September 27th 2023.Only 273 cases produced.

Ontario can vint decent Gamay Noir and at times one might ask could it rank with Cabernet Franc as Ontario’s signature grape?

Aroma: Encased in a smoky frame with a plenitude of blackberry, red currant, black cherry and lesser notes of raspberry.

Palate: Surprisingly tannic for a Gamay where one expects a lighter, fruity and easy drinking wine but why be pinned down by stereotypes. Creativity has little patience for typecasting. The tannins divert the senses from the fruit and fruit there is lighthearted cherry, currants and blackberry. Is this a Barolo!

Personality: Think of me as being on the unique side. I rather plead with you to set me aside until 2026 where I may just surprise you and I may cruise very nicely into 2030. Waiting for wine in the bottle can be a fool’s game but give me a break! With risk there can be reward but there could be disaster.

Food Match: Ontario venison but not from Marineland Niagara.

Cellarbility: Hold until 2030 but do not open until 2026.

Price: $23 CDN.

RKS 2025 Wine Rating: 88/100. Wine Align 87.

(Stoney Ridge Estate Winery 2022 Small Lot Gamay Noir Bucknall Vineyard, VQA Vinemount Ridge, Stoney Ridge Estate Winery, Vineland, Ontario, 750 mL, 12.5%).

The Penniless Pensioner: Misaligned, Maligned but Marvelous (The Final Version): Chapter 47: Surrounded by Gypsies at Three A.M. and My Eye Spies an Old Flame and a Dacian Beauty

I had two days before my little show in Bucharest introducing Romanian restaurants and liquor distributors to India’s finest whisky (in my humble opinion) “Bombay Blues”. After an early dinner at the Westin’s “Vlad the Impaler’s” bistro style restaurant I decided to take an evening stroll to Herastrau Park a huge park encircling a lagoon. I discovered a charming bistro on the lake and sat at a table on a patio overlooking the lake. I met the owner Sorine and we talked for a bit. Married a few years ago he and his wife voyaged to India for their honeymoon so we had something in common. We had a chat and consumed a large quantity of German beer sitting in tubs of ice by each table. I invited Sorine to my upcoming Bombay Blues reception.

I am going to relate to you a story as my publisher Wuhan Wet Market Publishing keeps inveigling me to keep amusing and titillating readers lest they be bored. I mean haven’t you been excited and thrilled so far? Haven’t I experienced an incredible life you will never experience? Who needs a Hollywood movie when you can read about me! Don’t read my story before you go to bed or you’ll never sleep.

So here we go to get you titillated and you can thank Wuhan Wet Market Publishing for insisting upon me relating to you this story although I think it is hardly racy.

Sorine and I had been chatting up a storm at his bistro whiling the night and early morning away. When Sorine closed at 2 a.m. he said that he would walk me home so off we wended through the park singing Romanian folk songs. I suppose it was the German beer talking but I was singing along in Romanian! A few minutes into our walk through the park a group of gypsies jumped out of the bushes with their musical instruments requesting a “donation”. I wanted to blow these hucksters away but Sorine said shut up or your throat may be slit like had been done to a few tourists each year. So we enjoyed the music paid out some cash and we were on our way.

Corina an operative and a friend from my CIA days in Eastern Europe

The next day while having dinner at the J.W Marriot Bucharest Grand Hotel’s J.W. Steakhouse the sommelier approached my table and asked what wine I thought I might like with my ox steak. Our eyes met and when her beautiful blue eyes stared into mine my knees went weak. It was not wholly because she was the most beautiful women in Romania but rather in my CIA operative days in Bucharest we had a month-long torrid fling, I had met Corina at the Bucharest Ceauşescu Technical Institute. Her father at the time was a recent defector from the Ceauşescu regime so we thought at the CIA she might be useful to us which she was! But I could not blow my Indian travelling salesman cover so I held back at least knowing where to find her. But first I had to avenge Ginevra.

The Penniless Pensioner: Misaligned, Maligned But Marvellous (The Final Version) :Chapter 46: Touchdown in Romania Clouded with Poop Gas: An Angry Gun Barrell Never Sleeps

I left India via New Delhi on TAROM Airlines on the Delhi Belly flight to Bucharest aptly named as so many passengers have the trots from Indian food the airplane cabin reeks of poopy runs!

Arriving on TAROM Airlines with the outskirts of Bucharest below

Part of the “plan” had me darkening my skin with a couple of weeks in the Bombay sun to bleach the Welsh side of me out. Then I grew a scraggly beard and dressed “like an Indian”. If Cyclops and his Russian hoodlums were looking for Ginevra’s fiancée, I did not want to foot that bill. Don Lupara’s local Romanian mafia in a desperate turf battle with the Russians had advised him Cyclops had reduced his security as some 7 months had lapsed since he had fled Naples. He obviously forgot the Neapolitan adage, “An angry gun barrel never sleeps.”

Using a false Indian passport, I passed easily through customs and immigration at the Bucharest Airport. I took a taxi and checked in at the J.W. Marriot Bucharest Grand Hotel. As I had told you I had at one point been working as a CIA operative in the old Communist Eastern Europe which included a stint in Romania canvassing the possibility of a student led uprising to topple the Ceausescu leadership or “butchership” if you wish. Ceausescu was a nasty bastard and his wife Elena was the Doctor Mengele for Romanian children. Both were shot in the head in 1989 when the communist regime was overthrown.

I planned two days in the capital city of Bucharest and then off to Constanta on the Black Sea to host a reception for local restaurateurs and liquor distributors who would tank up on my Bombay Blues Indian whisky and curried shrimp and pakoras. What a crazy bunch of people but in a happy way. Once the whisky was open it began to be consumed in great quantities. The Romanians, once deprived of any reason of gaiety under so many years of communism seemed to want to compensate for the horrific Ceausescu days and let their hair hang down. I can’t say I was flooded with orders but you gotta start somewhere! Constanta, a dreadfully dismal Black Sea resort town. was a morose place full of Ceausescu socialist architecture and sterility.

I flew back to Bucharest for another reception of potential buyers of Bombay Blues whisky, a near attack by gypsies and an encounter with the most beautiful woman in Romania.

The Penniless Pensioner: Misaligned, Maligned but Marvellous (The Final Version): Chapter 45: Back in Bombay

In September I returned to Bombay from my Samian hideout keeping myself occupied with the various businesses I had on the go that had been managed by trusted advisors over the past few years. I had sold the gold mining business my father had built up a few years ago and diversified.

My newest business was “Number One Outsourcing” and it was legitimate unlike many of the Indian boiler room operations selling fraud fueled fabricated dreams sucking out money from Europeans and North Americans. I had a phalanx of well-educated Indians capable, with some extensive training, to fill jobs outsourced by the wealthy nations. First world corporations were in a cost cutting frenzy to pump up salaries of senior management interested in big bonus payoffs based on high short-term profits. His meant immediate cutting of expenses and damn any long-term consequences. Greed was the name of the game so why not benefit from what could not be stopped! I recall an enormous client of mine, a huge global financial institution headquartered in Cleveland, having been encouraged by American financial institution regulators to move jobs offshore as a “risk reduction strategy”. Sell out your domestic labour force to “protect” financial institutions? Dealing with this contradictory combination of greed and stupidity was a fine business to be in. We had vast complexes in Bombay and Punai “Number One Outsourcing” managed. Please don’t blame the Indians for hundreds of thousands of American and Canadian jobs outsourced to it. If you want to apportion the blame asked who performed the outsourcing and the American government that encouraged them to do so.

One component of the outsourcing was establishing call centres and necessary supporting infrastructure. Many of my clients didn’t mind their customers dealing with Indian call centres despite the fact of horrific phone communication and very heavy Indian accents their customers had difficulty understanding. Who cares about these matters when profits could skyrocket.

My “Bombay Fried Okra” chain was doing well. Dress up staff in American fast foodish outfits and replicate fast food restaurant décor and assembly line food. The menu was simple. Fried curried okra and biscuits, fried curried eggplant sandwiches, Indian fries and goat milk milkshakes were popular. We also featured McTandoori sandwiches.

Move over burgers; time to enjoy curried fried okra

Perhaps the business that was the most rewarding but not highly profitable was managing my late mother’s music catalogue. Not known by many was the fact she had written two John Lennon songs “Curry Fields Forever” being the most popular. After John’s death his record sales rocketed and so did royalties for Juanita Wallabong my mom.

On my spare time I managed to squeeze a few polo games in with my old school chums who were working at the Bombay British Consulate.  I worked with a couple of them to start a distillery for a new Indian Scotch Whisky “Bombay Blues” which you may recall was the style of blues my mom had invented. Little did I know that whisky would feature in my Romanian plans for Cyclops.

RKS 2025 Wine: Beyond Good and Reliable to Excellent Chateau Ste Michelle Indian Wells Columbia Valley Cabernet Sauvignon?

Chateau Ste. Michelle Cabernet Sauvignon rarely disappoints and pardon me beats the pants off California Cabernet Sauvignons at comparable price points. Can it elevate itself from consistently good to consistently excellent? Perhaps Chateau Ste Michelle Indian Wells Columbia Valley Cabernet Sauvignon might pave the way from consistently good to consistently excellent?

Aroma: Laser beams of blueberry careening around the nostrils along with blackberry and the vanillas imparted by American oak makes this somewhat typical eminently Washinton approachable.

Palate: Traverses down the hatch happily singing the blueberry and blackberry song. Judicious and skillful use of oak as far as an oaky Cabernet Sauvignon can be. California style without California price. Full bodied and powerful. With restrained tannins. Long finish.

Personality: Swinging a big Cabernet Sauvignon stick. Enjoy me for what I am; an American Cabernet Sauvignon not afraid of its oak. Perhaps not for everybody all the time but when you are in the mood for it then it hits the spot. With possible punishing Trump 25% tariffs looming for Canadian goods exported to the United States it may come to pass Canadians will be boycotting United States wines so I could be shut out from the Canadian marketplace for reasons of price and pride.

Food Match: Good old pot roast with gravy of course!

Cellarbility: Enough stuffing to cruise into 2029.

Price: $24.30 CDN.

RKS 2025 Wine Rating: 94/100. Natalie MacLean 92.

(Chateau Ste Michelle Indian Wells Columbia Valley 2021 Cabernet Sauvignon, Chateau Ste Michelle, Paterson, Washington, 750 mL, 14.5%).

The Penniless Pensioner: Misaligned, Maligned but Marvellous (The Final Version):Chapter 44: Cooling My Heels in the Greek Eastern Aegean

I spent three days in Vravrona, a short distance from the Athens airport, enjoying the ocean and eating plenty of grilled octopus, fresh fish, stuffed vegetables and Greek Salads. I researched my island destination of Samos a relatively small island in the Eastern Aegean at points as close as six kilometres from the Turkish coast. It had a long history of peaceful enterprising inhabitants more interested in commerce than in war. It had been occupied by the Turks for over 200 years and then the Italians and Germans in the Second World War. It was a prize summer tourist destination for Germans and the Dutch many of whom had been regular visitors. Most importantly there were few Italian tourists visiting the island. Not that anyone would recognize me but my mission was to be a forgotten individual in the minds of any Italians particularly Calabrian’s.

I took the overnight ferry from Piraeus to the capital town of Samos called Vathi. I arrived at 09:00 in the warm spring sunshine. The island was mountainous and from a distance looked parched. In Vathi I rented a car just outside the port from Nicos Rent a Car. A small Citroen. I drove to a small town called Mytlini a 20-minute drive from Vathi. It was up in the hills and with a population of little over a thousand people. The entire village was on a hill and the streets were sloped. One small supermarket, a bakery, a convenience store, a fromagerie and a few small shops up the hill including two tiny restaurants.

My hideout town of Mytlini up in the hills of the Greek island of Samos

I had rented a small house from two spinster schoolteachers. It was dated and required extensive renovations but I was fortunate to have found it. The locals were a bit aghast at a half Indian half Welsh character in their midst but were welcoming which was better than being pinned as Italian. I was often invited in for coffee and vanilla on a spoon in cold water or a small plate of quince jam. It didn’t matter they spoke very little English or I almost no Greek although I was picking it up quickly by watching an inordinate amount of Greek television. After my afternoon nap I would head down to one of the restaurants and have a beer and some mezze which usually were slices of octopus, tomatoes and a bit of feta cheese. I would practice my rudimentary Greek with the patrons and they usually responded with a laugh to my pronunciation but a friendly and not mocking laugh. I would try my best at preparing Greek food in my kitchen and after a few disasters I could even prepare roasted stuffed vegetables. I loved stuffed zucchini flowers.

I had three months to spend here on Samos which would include June, July and August. I wasn’t planning on sitting on my ass. Small as Samos was there plenty to see.

RKS 2025 Wine: Foreign Affair Winery in Niagara Goes Italian

There are several wineries in the Niagara, Ontario wine producing area that have gone Italian the Appassimento and Ripasso way. In Italy the crushed grapes made to use Amarone are “reused” in the Ripasso method. The pomace (the pulpy mass of seeds and skins leftover after the Amarone has fermented) is left in contact with the newly fermented Valpolicella wine for a couple of weeks leaving the wine to pick up extra colour, flavour and structure from the pomace. Amarone is made with grapes left to dry and shrivel leaving a more concentrated juice. The result would be Valpolicella Ripasso. Foreign Affair uses Cabernet Franc and Cabernet Sauvignon (not used in the making of Valpolicella) which is then “passed over” the pomace it has used to make its Amarone style wines. The result should be a full bodied and intense red wine but far less so than an Amarone style wine.

Don’t think an Amarone or a Ripasso style wine is better than other red wines but rather is a different style suited for different foods, places and times

Aroma: Black cherry, figs, dark chocolate, kirsch and blackberry.

Palate: Tannins gently swell into the palate but it is a wave of tannins not a tsunami! Rather smooth but not as rich and fruit rich as you might expect from a Ripasso. Blackberry, black cherry, a bit of blueberry and coal. Almost tart. Short finish.

Personality: Italian in spirit Ontario in result.

Food Match: Can’t get Chicken Cacciatore out of my mind so despite observations from certain family members I “poach” my dishes I will have to prepare it on the sly.

Cellarbility: Drink in 2025.

Price: $19.45 CDN.

RKS 2025 Wine Rating: 89/100. Wine Align 89.

(The Foreign Affair Winery 2019 Conspiracy, VQA Niagara Peninsula, The Foreign Affair Winery, Vineland Station, Ontario, 750 mL, 12.5%).