Yesterday I went to The Mill Parallel in Barcelona. He is a former cabaret local reopened a couple of months. A charming show. For a moment forget what year you are, what time you are and who you are. I've decided to see the show as a man with the mustache who in 1898 wanted to escape from their routine and with the help of a few drinks and some smoke, was lost in the feathers of a generous group of showgirls. For a few hours I was part of the past, for a moment I felt what so many have felt, I experienced what others and I have lived what others have been. 
actors, engrossed in their roles, seemed possessed by spirits of the old cabaret, some spirits that could be perceived in their eyes and movements, and certainly refused to consent to anyone else alive the magic of the mill for them. 
I was struck by the master of ceremonies. A very handsome boy, tall, big, bold and radical ambiguity. He was very man and very gay. Very polite and very vicious. Very gentleman and scoundrel. We talked about since 1898 and since late 2010. His voice and presence covering every corner of this great little restless waiting room, quiet and sad, the exciting revival of yesterday.
A went out for a drink at the cocktail bar suggestive of confectionery, a meeting point for actors and bohemians on the Carrer Sant Pau. Suddenly we get a guy of medium height and petite, vivacious and discreet parked his bicycle in the door and went to meet his friends. He was the master of ceremony, he left on El Molino blatant and pervasive spirit of the master of ceremonies at a Barcelona a hundred years ago and now it was just ... him. How good an actor and be able to unfold and in a parallel reality for a few hours. Play to be another in the name of that other to do all that, like ourselves, we dare not do. That's good to see everyone who is challenging to thee, sing four truths and between histrionic movements represent a work of which not even have to take responsibility.
Yesterday I was a showgirl perfect dancing lights and feathers. I was a man in a suit and mustache, chain-smoking drunk in the Mill. I was a well known transvestite. A fag no "cure." Censorship was fearful of the unknown. A cloud of smoke over time breathing in a corner of oblivion. Yesterday I a naked barman putting cheap drinks in a cabaret. I was a shameless couple that lost a quarter daring, lived a joyous evening. Yesterday was the trap, the other, dear. I was a woman waiting for my husband cheated. A master of ceremonies was tall and elegant, half knight, half villain, half friendly. I was the blades of the mill and at every turn, scored a second in reality would not return, until a century later. CABARET MEAT LOAF
Mix 1 kg. minced beef 1 onion, three cloves of garlic ½ red bell very, very choppy. Add a tablespoon of oregano, salt and pepper to taste. Then mix it all with about 10 finely chopped olives and 3 eggs. On a lead role (aluminum) with olive oil pan and forms a wrap. Take it to the oven at medium heat for about ½ hour.
The gravy will come off slowly. Then remove the paper and finish cooking to your taste and juice.
Apart
5 potatoes cut in very small strips, place them in a deep baking pan with a chopped onion into strips, 200 grams of grated cheese, a tablespoon of oregano, pepper and salt to taste you cover half milk (which does not pay the potatoes). Take it to the oven until the potatoes are tender (you will see that the milk is consumed). 
I made to accompany a sauce with mushrooms, 3 cloves of garlic, a tablespoon of parsley, olive oil, salt and a splash of cream. I left a long time for flavors to blend well.
There, I hope you like and when you enjoy it, whoever you are, you're acting in the work of your life, like who else you feel like being.
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