JANUARY NEWSLETTER

How is it that a quarter-century can be so remote in prospect but then flutters only briefly in retrospect? Aesop is now twenty five but - extending our debt to Coleridge - we will that youth and ourselves are house-mates still. Our store in High Street Armadale evokes the lovely Brazilian word saudade , lying as it does on the border of that foreign country, Melbourne 1987, which immures our original Baldwin Street studio. As we mature, we find renewed inspiration by listening to the perennial Leonard Cohen. Old Ideas (his first album in nearly eight years) shows that great artists can indeed resemble great wine: full of acidic power in youth, acquiring depth and finesse with age. Such sweet melancholy may also be sampled wordlessly: the darker, post-rock visions of Explosions in the Sky will fill London's Brixton Academy on 27 January. Songs like 'Your Hand in Mine' ask the deathless questions - concerning love, loss, life and mortality itself - with insistent guitar loops. If this is still all too cheerful, consider each of the thirty-five seconds in Beckett's play 'Breath' before heading to Trinity College Dublin in July. The first Samuel Beckett Summer School will inhabit the place where the writer began his intellectual life. Registration is already open: time to start planning a new year of learning and enquiry – and, we trust, a new demisemicentennium.

LEARN FROM SMART WOMEN
Now that e-readers are imposing a uniform, often shabbily constructed, reading format, graphic designer Irma Boom affirms the inherent richness of paper. Far from being mere vessels for other people's wisdom, her creations speak to all human senses and make reading an even more meaningful experience. A master at adapting form to content, she has used olive oil as ink for a book on a perfumer and taken a chainsaw to pages about Sheila Hicks so they resemble the frayed contours of the textile artist's work. Produced industrially rather than by hand so they can be shared with as many people as possible, Boom's book-objects make more than beautiful gifts: they make sense.

SLEEP
If you feel, as we do, that now would be a good time to infuse some cash into the depleted Greek economy, consider the Hotel Grande Bretagne in Athens – on Constitution Square, at the very centre of the Glorious City. Granted, this abode is more fitting for a modern-day hedonist than a true Epicurean: the nineteenth-century neoclassical building, with its exquisite Beaux-Arts marble lobby, stunning views of the Acropolis and superlative service is what a grand hotel should be. (Amateur botanists will also savour the herb-scented steam bath in the spa). Patronising such a fine establishment may be the most rewarding way to return something to the people who gave us democracy.

EAT
If you've eaten wasabi outside Japan, it was probably extruded from a tube and was in fact a sad substitute: Western horseradish, mustard and green colouring. We are grateful to the rare growers sharing the actual plant with the rest of the world, such as Shima Wasabi in Tasmania – the gourmet last frontier of Australia. This is a long way indeed from Shizuoka, on the Izu peninsula, which claims to be the birthplace of wasabia japonica. Rub the root gently against a very fine abrasive surface to form a paste (the Japanese insist on sharkskin but we find a nutmeg grater works well, so long as one observes the traditional practice of forming the hiragana character "の" with each stroke). Nestle a tiny amount between the rice and the fish in your nigirizushi instead of leaving it on the side of the plate, as it loses its aroma after fifteen minutes of exposure to the air. Wasabi cleanses the fish and enhances its flavour with its distinctive mixture of sweetness and heat.

VISIT
Try to make it to Munich's Haus der Kunst before 'Maniera Moderna' closes on 8 January. This comprehensive retrospective of Carlo Mollino's multifaceted work displays the French surrealist influences which reshaped his Italian rationalist formation. Mollino's daring montages of contradictory forms, techniques and materials create visual oxymora that amuse or challenge, depending on the viewer. The diversity of media presented here is given coherence by the love of curves evident in all of his pieces, from buildings to furniture through intimate photography, not to mention race cars and skiing manuals. If a week's notice is insufficient to plan a trip to Munich, the exhibition's catalogue has won this year's DAM architectural book award in its category.

DRINK
Now that the era of bunga bunga rests in history's dustbin, let us toast Italy's new renaissance with a time-proven drink: Stravecchia Grappa. Unlike brandy, which is made from grape juice, grappa is steam-distilled from fermented pomace, the leftovers of the wine-making process: skins, seeds, pulp and stems. Stravecchia, or "very old" grappa, must by law be aged for eighteen months, hence the name of this favourite of ours, Le Diciotto Lune ("the eighteen moons"). This is a blend of eight grape varieties aged in barrels of four different types of wood, which add golden amber colour and complex woody aromas to the fragrant oils produced during fermentation. Opinions differ on how to enjoy this digestivo: before coffee, mixed with espresso, or even after coffee to rinse the cup in one clean sip. We recommend sipping it slowly on its own, in meditation rather than in Mediaset.

CINEMA
We dream of the films that would have been if tuberculosis had not ended Jean Vigo's oeuvre when the French director was just 29. Sadly, the initial release of his sole feature (L'Atalante, 1934) was a complete bust and his last short (Zéro de Conduite , 1933) was censored for being both anti-French and 'insulting to the national education system'. It was only from the 1950s that cinephiles and cinematographers recognised the wit, poetry and rebellious energy of the young outcast. The Criterion Collection now makes Vigo's gems available in an essential DVD or Blu-ray package. It is impossible to single out a high, so watch them all together while reflecting that his life's work is indeed short enough to be watched in one blessed evening.

READ
The lack of enthusiasm around the 150th anniversary of Italy's unification in 2011 has left some of us wondering whether this beloved country actually exists. Although several recent good books have tackled this issue, the most pleasant and illuminating read may be David Gilmour's The Pursuit of Italy. Gilmour constructs a kind of counter-history of Italy from the perspective of its outlying regions, who rarely wanted unification and sometimes fought bitterly against it. This complex heritage informs the spirit of campanilismo, or attachment to one's own bell-tower, that is so evident in conversations with most Italians and in the recent surge in the Northern League's popularity. It is ironic to think that this centrifugal force, which helps to make the country so fascinating, may also be threatening its existence.

PLAY
Those who have not contested back yard cricket may never understand the beauty (or even the laws) of a game that can end in a draw after five days. This sport requires strategy, stamina, concentration and psychological momentum: wisdom, experience and cunning outscore brute force. This January, be sure to follow the Test series between Australia and India with Gideon Haigh. His wit, critical distance and regard for cricket's nearly 200 years of modern history set him apart. The story of Haigh's amateur team, The Vincibles, is a self-deprecating ode to the camaraderie that modern adult life seldom affords other than on the field.

'One may not reach the dawn save by the path of the night. Germaine Greer