Acv And Cervical Mucus

anonymous restaurant Les Miserables and Restaurant Ars Natura

Last Friday I went with my wife and a couple of friends to see the musical "Les Miserables", which is currently represented in the theater "Lope de Vega" in Madrid. Shortly after starting the function, just after that lovely sounding song called "I Dreamed a Dream", I looked askance at my friend and I saw it was completely still. Seemed to stare at the floor without paying attention to the work that was representing at that time. On stage, the poor Fantine wandered weeping through the streets of a French village. To pay the maintenance of his daughter after being fired from the factory where he worked, he released his collar, his hair, his honor and his teeth. While developing this dramatic scene, my friend was holding his chin with his left hand holding his elbow on the armrest of the seat, the other hand resting limply on his lap, his body inert and rhythmic breathing. Come on, it was like a log. His dream was so deep that it seemed to me that I should have fallen asleep right in the time of lights out of the theater and began the fu nción. Normal, it was Friday night and was tired. Beside, I followed the work with eyes wide open, despite waking up that day at quarter to seven in the morning and not being able to rest a minute to nap time. This phenomenon, which distinguishes human beings from other, has a simple scientific explanation known by the names of hypersomnia and Dyssomnia. Let me explain. Hypersomnia is a sleep disorder characterized by excessive sleepiness. The Dyssomnia comes to the opposite, ie, is the difficulty in falling asleep and staying asleep. I, after watching me a lot of myself, I concluded that I am hipersómnico per day, with a single episode of cataplexy, and disómnico night. Ie I am a eritropoyésico.

On Friday I go to work by public transport. I say this for two reasons: first because I believe that this data is related to what I'm counting and, second, to give you grief. Sentence them because I live far from the gigs, and it forces me to wake up on Friday three quarters of an hour before my usual time, breaking my abito h of sleep. And if the early start was not enough punishment, it is normal to touch me the way up, because to those hours on the train are always many more passengers than seats and my morning slumber I am deprived of the necessary flexibility to anticipate all those fellow travelers, even if they fall exhausted at eleven o'clock at night and sleep in the theater listening to songs from "Les Miserables" in the mornings are able to pounce on the empty seats as if they were beasts to hunt their prey. Are disómnicos per day, as "Belle de Jour" and hipersómnicos night, which nuns closing, so a eritropoyésico, like me, is not prepared to fight against them ar for a seat in the early hours of morning.

But if you're not really supporters of wasting his compassion in crap like this because I do not feel sorry and that's it, that I too am I going to complain, but I ask in return not be angry with me seem so frivolous because by now we should be accustomed to living with superficial people that seem to bother the more the speed limit on English roads that the war in Libya, or who feel closer to the tribulations of a passenger sitting in a sleepy seat of a commuter train to the misfortunes suffered by the victims of any disasters that plague the world, provided that the world caught us very far. The proximity is the key, and the things we worry more about the more likely it can potentially affect ourselves or the people around us. Be a little superficial is normal, nothing happens. From death we try not to speak, because we refuse to feel like something close. We are afraid. When someone you know is dying, we solve the issue with four topics: "we are nothing", "life goes on" and so on. Unemployment we do not like talking because it is a tragedy that is too close and their presence is making us all a little unhappy, a little funky, a little more my Erables.

Les Miserables have always wanted things to change. I did the chorus to sing Bob Dylan and him that times were changing, hoping that things would soon improve. We were so optimistic that we thought that changes could only be synonymous with improvement. Were the most pious comfort in prayer and in compliance with the principles of the Church, when they should have relieved his guilty conscience twenty dollars pouring into the brush of the church, away from the pleasures of the flesh or mortifying their bodies with sackcloth. Others gave their lives to the cause of the proletariat. But today no longer believe in the future of Marxism and the Communist Party general secretary, and roll life eternal not swallowed or Rouco Varela. No improvement is expected. If anything, the only changes we can hope for now are reforms to our lives worse and delay a little time left to go to hell all this racket. Today the miserable (and now I do not mean simple people and unhappy people but ambitious, wicked and mean) are devoted to speculate crops in Southeast Asia in the second half of this century, to warn us that we must work more and earn less, or writing articles in newspapers explaining the benefits that the earthquake in Japan may report back to the pockets of the most savvy investors. A stream appears on the horizon proclaiming that the world's problems are due to the lack of values, immigrants, taxes, condom use and gay marriage. The Tea Party, Marine Le Pen and the Episcopal Conference. Become the world, the flesh and the devil. The one we expected.

But enough of reflections inspired by the double meaning of the word that names the music we have just seen, and return to science. Those who are hipersómnicos daytime mature too quickly and suffer the orthochromatic erythroblast why certain imbalances in the levels of cerebrospinal fluid, which is able to induce sleep faster than a movie Lars Von Trier or match Atletico Madrid. Throughout the day there are large fluctuations in these levels. Are high in the early morning, continue to rise during the working day and reached its peak zan largely to the siesta, during which eritropoyésicos if not it will be because they are half asleep half awake, but in any case are more Abundio fools the guy (when going to harvest grapes for dessert was taking). The eritropoyésicos spend the day dragging the body from the office to the coffee machine and coffee from the office, trying with difficulty paying attention leaden some reports, those that analyze the current situation of something and then identify improvement opportunities to optimize the thing examined. Now companies are full of types optimizing things. If you look at the snout of man in the picture beside you will realize that you have all the earmarks of being a great optimizer. The truth is that the face of this man scares you a little, as the riot film Berlanga. In contrast, the eritropoyésicos scares anyone and not limited only to optimize the balance of his night erythroblast to become very careful about ravers, they become disómnicos, always ready to extend the party all whatever it takes, even though his hyper evening fellow sómnicos the look with a sleepy expression, similar to those they had before, when the sun shone high in the sky and were illuminated by the golden threads of the beautiful Rubic's hair undo Apollo. If not one day, at night the world is yours. Waiter, another round, please!

This topic has always caused concern even has come to occupy space in the lyrics of some famous songs of modern bands and important in our country. And to see that we do not invent anything here, and we bring the issues well documented we put, by way of example, a fragment of a beautiful song from "The Braves" called "When the sun" and appeared in the 1967 LP "The boys with the girls." I had a single (actually not a single, was a disc of four songs named EP, Extended Play), on side A "Boys in the girls" and "Come When I Call" and Face B: "When the sun" and "Bye, by and, baby." A highly recommended disc. Now sing:

"I met a little girl who was a special case
day As things came out
badly And I must confess that in broad daylight was never good, eh, eh
But at sunset, But when the sun is as
o p
stop a train At sunset

the morning, walking, shuffling going
Despeinada and badly dressed, you see it
And I wondered which side could have
But as the sun,
But when the sun is
to stop a train As the sun "

More clear water. The girl in the song, which was obviously eritropoyésica, he revolutionized the metabolism at sunset. It is very well known. On the day all are disappointments and heartbreaks, but when darkness dominate the world, women eritropoyésicas forget his temper, get into a car and starts the frenzy. They are not the belle de jour. They are the queens of the night. Tino Casal sang it: "Stop, my fairy guest star victim of indifference get in the car, queen of the night and forget your bad mood" My friend stretches in his chair. On stage actors of the play differently live on before the revolution. All sing in chorus "One more day" and ends the first act. I first saw "Les Miserables" in London in 1992 and even then I thought it was a remarkable adaptation of a great novel that narrates over fifteen hundred pages the lives of a series of characters during the first nineteenth century. is hard to condense a work so extensive and so complex in a musical, but the authors, in my opinion, get it fully. The story is interesting, but also the production of Madrid has added a spectacular scenery clearly outperforms that I saw in London For almost twenty years. The wonderful scenery lead us, no waiting, no downtime changes to a slave ship where he rows a prisoner Jean Valjean, a factory, a brothel where the unfortunate Fantine shows their desperation, to a room that is held a trial, a tavern, to the barricades where the revolutionaries were faced with the forces of King Charles X during the July Revolution of 1830, the sewers of Paris, or a bridge where it is consumed Javert's suicide in a of the most spectacular of the work. The songs are beautiful. Some of them are so popular that they can say, without exaggeration, that are already part of popular culture recent years. Here I bring you some of them to come over, if you feel like a good time listening:

I Dreamed A Dream
Master of the House
On My Own One Day More


So far so good, but the trouble is that in Madrid these beautiful songs you have just heard are interpreted by a group of singers who do good to the less endowed contestants Idol. In the Barbican Theatre in London, the role of Fantine was played by the wonderful Ruthie Henshall: "I had a dream my life Would Be So Different from this hell I'm living ... . 'In Madrid it's a girl cat voice. It also goes around our representative at Eurovision last year, that he sang "something little, uo, uo, uo. This case it is the English beat us by a landslide. Do not know if this is because the casting was done by a deaf, or who have been given more importance to physical actors to his vocal, or no more wax than they burn. The latter does not think so. In any event, these performers on the scene only gets that night disómnicos representation we spend thinking about stupid things then we will write a blog, while slumbering peacefully beside us the hipersómnicos.

and finished drama critic, and only have room for comment Gourmet, essential in these articles. There he goes. As the schedule made it impossible to function we ask ourselves a conventional dinner in a nearby restaurant, we went to MUI, which is the best bar in Madrid or joke, but not bad. To me what I liked everything we ate was the ration of bacon with egg yolk.

Groping In Bus Chikan

Eritropoyésicos

few weeks ago seemed to Cuenca, instead of less than two hundred kilometers from Madrid, was a thousand. This is hardly surprising considering that the trip rarely drive down two hours in traffic runaway A-3 or the regional train, known popularly as "the shepherd" - took nearly three hours to get the old station. Thus, industrial disconnected from reality, it was an ancient building that had entered the twenty-first century on the backs of civil servants and a few services apart from the most basic self-must be one of the few English cities without a shop Zara - low demand covering tourism hospitality weekends and holidays more. Who knows if as a result of isolation or a certain conformism inherent in the spirit of Cuenca, the city had been for habits Easter and the cuisine, but a couple of exceptions, reduced to a handful of restaurants offering a dose of local color-zarajos, morteruelo, roast lamb, "it is true that naive enough not to fall into the grotesque.

Yet despite this self-destructive dynamic that had affected its architectural, Cuenca is still an extremely beautiful city, a gem that until yesterday was in the middle of nowhere. As to who wins the lottery, have plugged into Madrid by highway and high-speed train, "the great drought, the big soak," my grandmother would say. It should not be silly this communication, because since the city is less than an hour from the capital, there have been some new dining options. The most notable museum restaurant Ars Natura, a center to be found (sic) "Natural nine units that integrate a variety of ecosystems ." Ten, I would say, because the museum restaurant is run by Manuel de la Osa .

On the ground floor of this kind of box that is the museum, almost hung on a balcony in the neighborhood of the shooters, with breathtaking views over the old town is the restaurant. High ceilings, some 30 people so far apart in a room where any French bistro could have gone quietly, speedily hundred chairs, linen tablecloths and beautiful cutlery. The dining room has a stunning presence and snacks, from truffle butter, the delicious taste of mackerel with pickled chilli and air portend a great lunch, but the bread is easily upgradeable. The wine selection is focused on domestic supply, with emphasis on wines. No compromise, or hardly surprises.

On the technical side, De La Osa is responsible for the management and chef de cuisine is Catalan Jesus Segura - Arrop , Balm of Gilead , R. Street -. The tasting menu, like a polite attempt to introduce the cuisine of The Gates in Cuenca. For in the letter, except at the entries on the other offers what one might find in any restaurant of a certain level: Joselito ham, anchovies, salmon or foie gras terrine. It is, as I say, in the entries where you can choose hipersabrosa splendid and hot garlic soup, green vegetables or smoked ajoarriero, all with the stamp of the Pedroñeras. More aggressive the proposal tasting menu, long a more attractive option in the dose of risk is multiplied by ten with wonderful snacks and the creamy pine nut, pineapple truffle foie or , red wine tannins.


The little disappointed with the proposal of the letter is tinged with what is served at the table. The salad of partridge, roasted beans and pimentos is fantastic, but perhaps should be served with a few degrees more, and the dish of the day, rice with octopus and anisete-house brand of the school to which he belongs Segura, absolutely sensational. Not reach the same level as the main courses. It's curious pigeon dish two services, which shows a bird roasted in a dish and a creamy potato interior and one of the thighs in a bowl. The execution is correct, the pigeon is of good quality, but the dish lacks specificity. The same goes for the lamb and crispy skin is milky and tender texture and smoky flavor of the meat you get in a traditional roast, or the smoothness of the long cooking at low temperature. I liked the desserts, both simple and delicious, both the gelatin hazelnut coffee with cream and white chocolate, as the quesadilla with red fruits are a good way to end the meal.

"4 tonic, 8 harness, 16 gin, for example Fentimans ginger and Brockmans. Original way to offer you a gin and tonic that is essential to extend the evening and enjoy the breathtaking view you the late winter sun changes with haste the pastels of the houses in the uptown area.


If we abstrajésemos the environment, which itself could be reason enough to visit, what we would find a good high in absolute terms, because the kitchen is the sum of two talents to ensure a good pittance. If we mix the two, environment + food, sure we talk a great experience. However, I think they could go much further. Despite being close to my house, or perhaps because of it, I had the feeling of eating in Cuenca. Of course today in any part of Spain you can enjoy foie gras and oysters first level-one can doubt, "the product is everywhere, but apart from some sophisticated interpretations of traditional recipes certainly Mancha-heritage-Las Rejas, there is little reflection of the pantry and tradition of the Cuenca province, remember that not only is La Mancha, also there Alcarria and the Highlands. A paradox that happen in a museum whose main objective is to show the diversity of flora and fauna of the southern plateau.

Ars Natura is a great restaurant and, in terms of "love" in my opinion deserves a star too well, with the incentive of being able to eat for just 60 euros. But I think it's a house that we must wait. Or at least I want to wait. That evening garnets from the roofs of the houses that line the hole in the plate is processed in partridges. That smells of bread from the village of Arcas, so close, and the next Easter, big party in the kitchens of homes Cuenca, serve as inspiration not only to bring tourists. Restaurant

Ars Natura
C / Rio Gritos, 516004, Cuenca
Tel 969 219 512
Web: Ars Natura

How Do I Fake An Ear Thermometer

A genre scene and an idea Peanuts

Callos, leg beef, onions, garlic, leeks, carrots ... Gone are ordering food on the counter looking to create an orderly and harmonious scene, the order at the time of cooking is basic. Move meat and vegetables over and over again, trying to find and order, hands inadvertently persist in placing them on each other, there is harmony, but no order. A genre scene, a still life. Clean

calluses gently and legs of veal under the tap,

grossly hash hair and vegetables to the cooking bag,

in an iron pot of meat and we introduce boiling

to a boil removed the water and back to cover and boil

along with the vegetables.

not used to speaking of paint in the dining blogs, nor are we doing today me God forbid, but if we pass sideways Dining Scene costumbristas.Una genre scene inevitably leads me to recreate in my mind dining scenes in Madrid, but do not occur in Madrid, perhaps because I live here and because I believe that Velazquez had painted "Old Woman Cooking Eggs" in the town and court, though he painted in Seville is a madrileñísima scene worthy of Perez Galdos and Baroja. Boil

for three hours over low heat and it's time to prepare

use a sauce and sausages, but also the idea comes, oil

virgin olive fry a handful of almonds, which are well toasted,

chop a good handful of fresh parsley and roast a few strands of saffron.

The scene I liked from small gourds to the right, "wine and vinegar?, Mortar, metal, I guess a luxury for the time where still unaware of the benefits of yellow mortar, I guess too.

red onion, the dish with the knife, which seem to be a few pieces of dry chorizo \u200b\u200bpepper, a child with a bottle of oil "? and a beautiful pumpkin. More data for the gourmet observer, the stove where the pot rests is more like a bowl of rail, it seems that the Golden Age was technically very advanced, but mostly I have always called attention to the fact that there is frying eggs, are cooking at low temperatura.Todo above makes me think, a lot.

In a mortar, yellow of course, Crush the almonds, parsley,

a garlic and saffron to make a paste as thin as possible, flour

de almendras , que desleímos con un poco de vino añejo.En la sarten sofreímos

una cebolla picada e incorporamos el majado, dejamos reducir lo mas posible.

Lo que me da que pensar, o me gusta pensar mejor dicho, es que mas que una escena cotidiana el cuadro rinde homenaje a una gran cocinera, me gusta pensar que la vieja permitió que Velazquez la reflejase justo en el momento en que ponía en práctica una idea, una idea genial desde el punto de vista gastronómico. Me gusta pensar que el siguiente paso del cuadro hubiese sido el de la vieja troceando finamente la cebolla, sobre la que colocaría los huevos, y que en ese mismo aceite firing would raise the fire to fry the chopped pepper and squirt of vinegar, then scatter over the eggs and finally break the yolks just tempered with thin slices of pumpkin.

dilute the contents of the pan with a ladle of the cooking liquid and

incorporated it into the pot along with a beautiful dry chilli and a clove of

half hour and cook especia.Dejamos a rest at least two hours.

When serving sprinkle with plenty of chopped hard-boiled egg yolk.

I hope you'll agree with me that the picture improves considerably, we can dream that the old had ideas and wanted to record them, immortalized and that point was great, create recipes from his posado.Seguro which is also had thought of the idea of \u200b\u200b "Corns on pepitoria" looking only products, from a still life of a genre scene of an idea.

6 Rue Lekain 75016 Paris

This ugly it is I who say so, but this is a very timely post. Lately we have some forgotten the product, product, product. In fact, I think the last time we discussed the issue of product product, the product was several months ago when it comes to offal. To rectify this omission, today we bring to our sites an interesting theme: peanuts, product, product, product often overlooked by gourmets boastful and arrogant, more supporters of cashews and macadamia nuts, which, however, are delicious. Natives of America were imported to Europe by English conquistadors and since then we have entertained many Sunday afternoons. Beer, football and peanuts. Although Wikipe day says it is a legume, the peanut is a nut the whole life of God. A nut such as almonds, nut or pinion. Such as pistachio and sunflower seeds. A nut as the crown of a pine.

is convenient to start explaining these things, but once the mistake and waste before starting to walk the trails of the Peanut unusual, let's dwell on some semantic issues that are of great importance, is that the word is a mess. In Mexico they call peanuts (Guatemalan !, Put me some peanuts! "Holden asked, with that accent that has Chamberí mariachi, when it comes to visit home.) In Spain it is normal peanuts (plural: peanuts), but as the Catalans say peanut, for English speakers Catalonia, by mimicry, cacahua speak as fatal handled with words ending in "t", and therefore have a hard time saying " Generalitat", "peanut " and "Athletic Madrit " . The plural of cacahua cacahua or cacahueses may be, who knows, but I'm more of cacahueses, a term which I find much more euphonious than cacahua. As many people have the habit of writing the words as spoken, not lack in our country shops that sell nuts cacagüetes, a word that is costing me forever to write because Automatic spell the damn Microsoft Word . With less of a problem s the Uncle Eulogio wrote on the board of foosball located on Calle Juan Carlos I of the town of Cebreros Avila: " Here is wary. There cacagüetes and meringue. "

many people in Madrid called alcahueses, probably due to foreign linguistic influences that come to demonstrate that the locals have always been a little johns. Suspicions are not spared the inhabitants of other lands near the capital of Castile, who, when approaching a bar, ask to go with the cane " a plate of pimps. " If we cross Despeñaperros, things began to unravel again, and Cadiz, and not tell them. The Cadiz never had the habit of calling things by their name. In Cadiz, for instance, tell the port dock. If you ask a taxi driver in Cadiz: "- Where we go, boss? ", and what you want is getting closer to some relatives who are cruising on the Queen Elizabeth , do not ever answer: " - Take me to the port "because if it does I can assure you, no any doubt that you will end up in El Puerto de Santa Maria Cadiz watching from the other Across the bay. If someone sends you to the bull ring, you will see no corrida, p ero most probably end up eating some pickles topped with peanuts in the Lumen restaurant, near the Plaza Hasdrubal. Things of Cadiz. In Cadiz, a wagon is a butches, a miarma is a Seville, and a pea is a pea. A note is a silly ass, a cock is a friend, and a yellow is a bus to Sanlúcar de Barrameda. In Cadiz, a stew is a stew, a SIESO is a chuflas and cañailla is any animal, vegetable or mineral that comes from San Fernando. Jarte is a puna, a straight is a malencarao and is carajote note, but more silly still, those who prefer to take a bite of chop rather than a pot of potatoes with shrimp. After all these examples true and sincere you will understand that it is impossible for Cadiz call peanuts peanuts. Peanut in Cadiz tells Hazel. But as in this way are mixed with hazelnuts peanuts really, these are called "bulls hazelnuts," because it usually started to consume both cheeks as he left the bullpen the first of the afternoon, those distant years in which there bullring in Cadiz, right in the lot that is located in the Plaza Asdrubal, near the restaurant Lumen.

In Cuba and other countries of Latin America is called peanut peanut:

" Maniiiiiiiiií.
Tonight I will not be able to sleep
not eat a bag of peanuts "

This bolero has been interpreted by many singers. The Xavier Cugat Orchestra in the forties, his concerts often included in a melodic version of it. Judy Garland was singing in the George Cukor film A star is born . Julio Iglesias also incorporated it into his repertoire to make your own with this song. But I always identify with Antonio Machin. I remember very well because this man always sang the same songs, started with Two gardenias for you , song with a very large debt of gratitude to all the florists in the Hispanic world, was still The manisero and ended with Black Angels , spiritual and kind allegation reminiscent of the painters specializing in religious affairs the important role they could play, they also, in the fight against racial discrimination. The orchestra d Rafael irigía teacher Ibarbia .

Canarian people call to peanuts shelled peanuts. In Madrid (and do not know if in other parts of Spain) when they are roasted and salted are called jobfish and sold in stores of nuts and some churros. They are very nice to eat, nothing to do with the undigested kikos, noisy, greasy, fundamentalist and sectarian, unworthy to share the happy jobfish bag. The kikos never liked me. Either alone or in combination with other nuts. In general, I am not fond of these bags (or cans) that sold in supermarkets that contain different ingredients mixed (cocktail, they are called), because if I chew an almond, I apetecerá meet a hazelnut, with a raisin and much less with a kiko. In some pockets (or cans) of mixed drinks, including mixed with other shelled nuts in the shell, which I think a lot, man!, Which is a jobfish chewing absentmindedly while thinking their lights and shadows of Casa Manteca and suddenly finds that the shell of a pistachio has skipped a tooth filling.

My grandmother did it for Christmas a jobfish nougat. I would if I knew the recipe. Also shopping at the commissary chocolate nougat tablets with nuts, which were basically peanuts. Peanuts are cheaper than almonds and mix well with chocolate. Proof of this are the conguitos. My cousin Luisito was completely hooked on conguitos. Every day when he got home he sat watching TV with several bags of conguitos and not get up until they are all finished. She did not put an A world for them, Charlie's Angels or news. I do not know where he got the dough to buy both conguito, but the fact is that once had serious addiction problems. It was his escape, the only thing that rescued their moments of anguish and anxiety. Pobre Luisito! Now in the hundred and twenty kilos.

But enough of family stories. Peanuts also have a place in haute cuisine. I think Ferrán Adrià served on the menu this year some peanuts mimetics. Not sure, I'm not greedy. Those who have tried say they are not peanuts, but they seem to peanuts because they are made of peanuts. Okay, so El Bulli. Pedro Subijana tasting menu served in an ice cream of foie accompanied by a peanut sponge. In Lua (a restaurant highly recommended, BTW) once ate sea bass with vegetables, corn soup and peanut butter. And speaking of soup, peanut soup, inheritance African, is typical of the southern states of America.

And in the United States eat too many peanuts. In old Hollywood movies, when someone was looking for something to eat in the fridge first thing was it was the peanut butter. One of the most important comic strips of the twentieth century called Peanuts, and there is a good example of great songs featuring peanuts. I tell them. Dizzy Gillespie was a great American jazz trumpeter boosted bebop, with Charlie Parker . Bebop is a style jazzíztico which meant an early break points with music swing characteristic of the Big Bands . In the forties, the swing was staying rooted in rhythms that seem to repeat over and over again, unable to evolve. When it seemed that he had been squeezed to the maximum, appeared bebop. His birth was motivated, like many things in life, by a happy coincidence. In Harlem there was a club on 118th Street called Minton's Playhouse . The club was located on the first floor of the Hotel Cecil and ran a man named Teddy Hill, who had the idea to open the doors of its premises at the time that the other clubs in New York closed theirs. The club began to be frequented by jazz musicians who had previously acted in swing rooms scattered throughout the city, and that went to Minton's because there had the opportunity to unleash their creativity in endless jam sessions. In these informal sessions, with the help of Dizzy Gillespie, bebop was born (the origin of the word is not very clear, when Charlie Parker was asked about the issue, said the bebop word sounded like a police baton hitting against a black head, but I guess it would be a joke). Bebop style soon began to succeed, mainly due to a quintet that performed in jazz rooms in the street 52, and was formed by Dizzy Gillespie (trumpet), Charlie Parker (sax), Al Haig (piano), Curley Russell (bass) and Stan Levy (drums). Almost nothing.

Well, one of the most characteristic songs of the new style is called Salt Peanuts and was composed by Dizzy Gillespie in 1942. Salted peanuts. Who wants to listen to click here.