When we consider the possibility of undergoing a process of weight loss, a wide range of possibilities opens up before us. If our idea is to search the internet we will find millions of tricks to lose weight what they promise great results in no time and with little effort, something that should lead us to doubt such diets.
But there are many other possibilities: nutrition experts agree that following a healthy and healthy diet and combine it with sports usual is the best solution for lose weight that we have left over. A combination that, beyond serving for a certain period of time, should become a daily habit to guarantee the figure in the long term.
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Products high in saturated fat or refined carbohydrates and high in calories can boycott our weight loss plan
But what if the secret was as simple as follow the most common diet in Spain? New studies reveal that the Mediterranean diet is the basis for achieving slim down, but also to achieve lengthening our life expectancies. And it makes perfect sense: Spain is, after Japan, the country with the highest life expectancy in the world.
Mediterranean diet to lose weight
Countries like France, Italy or Greece share the Mediterranean with Spain, but also the food they bring to their tables. Peoples that for years have shared a diet based on the fruits and vegetables, in eating fish and in olive oil, the best fat that we can ingest for the benefit of our body. Without forgetting legumes, cereals and natural products that have been established in our feeding.
Fruits, vegetables and healthy fats such as those from fish and olive oil are the basis of the Mediterranean diet
This Mediterranean diet is not only ideal for living for many years, but it is also very suitable for losing weight. The fact of replace butters and less healthy oils with olive oil, the use of aromatic herbs and spices instead of salt or not eating large amounts of red meat are factors that make this diet one of the most recommended by nutritionists.
In fact, the British public health service, the NHS, notes that “the Mediterranean diet has been linked to good health, including a healthier heart.” Therefore, many experts relate a diet rich in healthy fats such as those from olive oil, blue fish or fruits such as avocado in basic to take care of the heart.
People who follow the Mediterranean diet live, on average, more years and have lower risk of developing disease like diabetes, but also other conditions such as cholesterol or hypertension that can cause cardiovascular disease. Something that has even been confirmed by a recent study by the American College of Cardiology.
What to eat to lose weight
The food pyramid of the Mediterranean diet recommends eating many fruits and vegetables, lots of fish and nuts, and whole grains. In addition, it also allows the consumption of red wine, so it is not necessary to completely eliminate alcohol from our diet when we try to lose weight, as it happens with other processes of weight loss.
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A handful of nuts every day is indicated in any weight loss plan for its magnificent nutritional qualities
What the Mediterranean diet does is eliminate sugary drinks such as soft drinks and artificial juices, recommending tea and coffee instead. And if what we are looking for is to lose weight, the ultimate goal will be consume more calories than we consume daily; It is what is known as caloric deficit and to achieve it it will not be necessary to count calories, but to go outside.
The Mediterranean town is famous for being cheerful, fun, eager to go outside to live together with family, friends or neighbors. That’s one way to cut calories: playing sports, even if it doesn’t seem like it. Walk, stroll, lead a less sedentary life It is one of the formulas to lose weight half a kilo a week, a good mean to lose weight in the long term.
Spain shares with the Mediterranean countries its own culture in which food is a meeting point
Scientists consulted by the British newspaper Express agree that the Mediterranean diet helps not to overeat, one of the reasons that boycott the weight loss plans of many people. Eating healthy and healthy, eating in moderation and living a Mediterranean lifestyle, not very sedentary, is the basis for losing weight in the long term and, in addition, increasing life expectancy. What more could you want?
Jim Harrison must go back to his grave: this year, he could not have teased trout in the rivers of the Morvan, near his friend Gérard Oberlé, writer ogre of knowledge and good things to drink and eat . All of this is the fault of this damn coronavirus that prohibits dipping the wire in water. However, we know a lot of chicks who recognize themselves through the words of Jim Harrison in A good day to die (ed. 10/18, 2003): “I was struck again by the way the fishery helped me to wipe out everything else, at least as long as I was in the river. For a few hours, all the problems – money, sex, alcohol, madness – disappeared in my concentration on the river, the places where the big trout were probably, the clear currents or in the swirls near the grassy shore , or behind the big rocks and pebbles that protruded from the surface of the water, forming pockets of water that always seemed to contain one or two fish. ”
Our old friend Bébert is one of those guys for whom life revolves around three pillars: the factory, the garden, fishing. Turner that he was Bébert. “OHQ” as we said for a highly skilled worker. At the workshop, he was entrusted with the machining of prototypes on his Ernault Somua lathe. You shouldn’t have risked touching his bike, which he burnt like a new penny. He was so proud of it that he didn’t understand anything when the takeover’s combs passed before him without a look or a word. It’s true what, almost forty banks to machine scrap for the same taulier, it deserved at least a bit of chat. He didn’t see anything coming either when the HRD told him that it was not going very much question backlog. It must be said that Bébert is not the kind of guy who gossips at the bistro after work. Him, it is the garden, the fishing which ventilates the mood. So when the big egg spoke “Production outsourcing” in Hungary and China, he simply put his tools in their large rag, emptied his closet in the locker room and then he went home to butter his potatoes. When his wife tumbled into the garden to unpack his chickweed, he simply shrugged, grumbling: “I was told I have enough quarters for retirement.”
Giant of Flanders
Sometimes he misses his turn, the smell of hot metal, the precision of a successful adjustment. But he doesn’t say anything because he always has something to take care of. The garden first: prepare the soil for the end of winter before the spring sowing: transplant, pick, pick, water, and then there is always a blade of grass to pull. You also have to take care of the hens, the rabbits (he is particularly proud of his giant of Flanders, a male), give a helping hand to his wife to hull the beans of the canned goods. Winter, Bébert “Do his wood” as he says in his communal affouage. He cuts, he splits oak, beech, foyard. Logs and quarters of 50 cm (it is precise as in the factory) for the Godin stove which heats a large part of their house. Bébert does everything himself. He never put the words “autarky”, “autonomy” in Scrabble. But the other day, he laughed softly when he heard on TV talking about “transition”, “living and consuming differently”. “I’ve always lived like this, that he thought, and my world will last long enough before I pass the gun to the left. “
And then there is fishing. This year, as usual, Bébert checked his gear in February. You have to see him polishing his rods, disassembling and checking his reels, mounting his lines, classifying his hooks and lures in his drawer box as tidy as that of his wife’s sewing. At dawn on March 14, he was happy as a kid, posted in one of his favorite fishing spots. To tell the truth, he doesn’t care a bit about the fish, especially since the farmed trout that has just been released is a bit like “duck fishing” at funfairs. Bébert especially likes “to take some fresh air” as he says, snack alone with his dog corniaud by scanning the river bed where he hopes to see a real trout, “A savage”. This year, Bébert came back from fishing with a nice … dandelion salad they ate with bacon and a poached egg. When containment landed like smallpox on the low clergy, Bébert sighed that he was “Too old for this kind of bullshit”. But the doctor phoned: with his emphysema (the fault in the scrap metal dust at the factory), he has to stay well sealed so as not to catch the coronavirus. As usual, he shrugged. he “Fuck the coronamachin” and then “Those joggers idiots”, they have the right to run in the countryside. So why shouldn’t he walk his dog along the river?
So the other afternoon, after sowing an 18-day radish plank in the garden, he goes to the water’s edge while the boss goes shopping at Super-U. The dog knows the way alone, over there where the river bends under a large willow. This is where it hides “The memory”, thinks Bébert. A big fario that he spotted a handful of times when she came out of his hideout, a huge strain. Bébert admires him. She fucked all the fishermen in the area. He is afraid it will end up in a landing net. He never had the trophy virus. He would just like to feel it undulate between his fingers underwater like when he was fishing by hand, kid. Today, the wave is clear under a hot spring sun. Bébert leans against the stump under which he distinguishes a tapered shadow. It’s for sure, it’s her. So he plunges his arms into the water to try to catch Memère. But it is already far away when Bébert falls with all his weight into the river.
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“You are going to catch death”, she says Bébert’s wife as he dries himself with a rough towel. Once the anger of his mishap is over, he smiles and thinks he’s twelve years old this afternoon. Then he leaves in a huge laugh when he sees in the middle of his wife’s shopping a bag of smoked trout which she is carefully disinfecting with hydroalcoholic gel.
Like all fish when smoked, trout love potatoes, especially when they are early, like those grown on the island of Noirmoutier. The star is the bonnotte but there is also the earlier sirtema, the iodea, the lady christ’l. Here is a recipe for “Bonnet apples in goat whipped cream and dill, strips of smoked trout and Siltimur pepper” that you can make with the potatoes available in these confined times.
You need 20 medium-sized underwear for six people; 2 slices of smoked trout cut into strips; 20 cl of very cold liquid cream; ½ fresh goat cheese log; 12 small sprigs of dill; 1 lime cut into quarters; Siltimur pepper or another if you can’t find it (black pepper, Espelette pepper …)
Wash and brush the potatoes then immerse them in a large pot of boiling salted water. Allow 10 minutes for cooking as soon as it boils again. Drain and keep warm. Whip the liquid cream with a mixer. In another bowl, whisk the goat cheese with the rinsed and finely chopped dill and stir in the cream. Whisk again and keep cool.
Arrange the bonnottes on each plate (about three per guest), cutting the top to make the flesh of the potato visible. Using a fluted piping bag or a spoon, arrange your cream.
Add one or two strips of trout, a sprig of dill and a wedge of lime. Give two mill turns with Siltimur pepper and it’s ready.
The teen is confined. More than ever, he subscribes to the two main pillars of his existence: junk food and screens. And we must admit that in the fourth week of Mitard, we really let go of the trapeze of parental authority on the subject. What good is it to rebel against the dictatorship of the Schokobons and the Rocket League when we ourselves are addicted to the Chocolate Taste Prince of LU and all the fighting movies on Netflix. It was that or we pecked at the pastis while reviewing the blockbusters by Max Pécas, for the record We calm down and drink fresh in Saint-Tropez (1987) or Clutch clutch, it smokes (1978). But the medical school advised against the second option, arguing that the turnip anisette mixture could be worse than the coronavirus. The teen approved by swallowing his twenty-fourth pack of Schokobons since the start of containment.
Exit therefore the great flights on the five fruits and vegetables per day. Forgotten reading notes on Victor Hugo or George Orwell. Now it’s four cheese pizza and PS4 on all floors of the containment. Go and teach a lesson to the reclusive but rather Zen teenager when at his age we beat the countryside without a license on an old bike. Being 15 at the age of the coronavirus, it is already a life lesson bitch that calls for indulgence. So the other night when he was about to fry a bucket of industrial chicken sleeves, he was offered to fry poultry at home with chef Grégory Cuilleron’s attractive “crispy chicken and spicy carrot mousseline” recipe. the book What are we eating tonight ? (1) is very precious in these times when you have to cook twice a day between four walls. The teenager said yes, surely to please us because, of the two of us, he is probably the great sage in the era of containment.
For the chicken nuggets (4 people), you will need: 4 chicken fillets; 100 g unsweetened cornflakes; 8 heaped tablespoons of flour; 2 eggs ; grapeseed oil; salt and freshly ground pepper. For the muslin: one kilo of carrots, 1 pinch of coarse salt; 1 cardamom pod; 2 teaspoons of turmeric; 10 cl of white vinegar; half a teaspoon of cane sugar; 2 teaspoons chopped or powdered fresh ginger; 75 g of butter.
Prepare the muslin: wash and peel the carrots, cut them into rings and place them in a pan of cold water with the coarse salt. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat and cook until the carrots are cooked. In a saucepan, dry the cardamom seeds and the turmeric to dry; deglaze with the vinegar and add the sugar and ginger. Let steep off the heat. Mix the drained carrots and add the butter and the infused vinegar. Blend until you get a fine, smooth mash. Adjust the seasoning and keep warm in the pan.
Prepare the chicken nuggets: roughly mix the corn flakes and put them in a deep plate. Pour the flour into another deep plate. Break the eggs by separating the whites from the yolks. Beat the yolks and pour them into a third plate.
Cut the chicken fillets into strips, salt them and pepper them. Roll them in the flour, pat them to remove the excess, then dip them in the egg yolk. Drain and bread them in the cornflakes. Fry in a pan in grape seed oil at 160 degrees. Place them on paper towels and serve them with muslin.
(1) What are we eating tonight ? 80 menus for the days of the week by Grégory Cuilleron (ed. Hachette, 2018, 14.95 euros)
Cécile Coulon is a blonde who pierces the eye as much as the screen. A blonde who shoots the strange. So white that it sometimes turns blue spectrum depending on the light and mood of the girl. If she hadn’t grown up a bit, we would see the kid in the credits of Village of the damned. This angel’s head is haunted, also landed on Earth to put its grain of salt. That explains the precocity that we know about him. Cécile Coulon wrote and published her first novel at the age of 16. Twelve years later, she signs a seventh novel, A beast in paradise, which reaches 70,000 copies in six months. Cécile Coulon has something to disturb. “Yes, I have more ghosts in me than experiences. But if I’m haunted, it’s in the positive sense. I am by the voices, the stories, the landscapes of those who preceded us. I’m leading a herd of ghosts, but they’re not leading me. ” It reassures. “The maturity that I am credited with is due to the fact that I can listen to these voices before and can be silent to write them.” She says that with a small smile, always in the corner. “I smile a lot when I speak, that’s why.” She has two dimples that add to it and carve out a playful face for her, which lights up while she shares her latest find to amuse the gallery of her 16,000 Facebook friends.
The “author” – as she presents herself – has an easy and friendly post as a confinement anti-journal. From his back and forth between his windows and his computer, we can read: “Stop walking your dog, I just saw one more muscular than me!” Or to relay: “I have no chest but right now there are people on the balcony.” She doesn’t have it either. She lives in an apartment on the top floor of a building in Clermont-Ferrand. Without balcony or adjoining garden, but with the possibility of climbing onto the roof. “It is a tiled roof, not at all made for that, but since I have a window that overlooks it, I take advantage of it and it is without risk.” It reassures. “Up there, I find something to breathe, to see somewhere else, I read, it’s nice.” The great outdoors, volcanoes, lakes, biking and running are what he misses most. “But it’s just a big whim when it comes to what cashiers, garbage collectors or hospital staff are going through. I’m so lucky to be here, alone, childless, I mean, without having to take care of anyone other than myself. ” Like her body. Its firm battle silhouette with cravings for “Good wines, good beers and good cheeses”. We learn that “The saint-nectaire freezes very well” in his cooking and containment tips. “I imagine these days people are going back to cooking.” All the more reason to strengthen your daily exercises. It nuances. “I am more worried about the duration of confinement than for my figure. If I do a lot of sport, it’s more to stay in shape and not get out of it completely exhausted and hysterical. ” She practices muscular strengthening exercises without apparatus or dumbbells. One carpet is enough “To prevent the muscles from melting”. She keeps running “Once a week, preferably at night and within a very limited area”.
All around, she knows by heart. This is his land. A full nature “who does not [l’]never scared. “ She never left it. “I never thought about it, even as a teenager!” His baccalaureate in cinema and the khâgne are made in Clermont. “I live in town to be near the train station, for work, but in half an hour I can be at the top of a volcano.” She reassures herself. She assumes this attachment “not fashionable”. She travels little and in France. She doesn’t have a car, favors the train, never the plane “except when [elle est] obligated for work ”. “I have no dreams of distant countries, I am like an animal, like the badger that stays close to its burrow.” Cécile Coulon is not involved anywhere, does not campaign. “Perhaps my commitment is to stay where I am. To feed on it for my fictions, to defend my region, to say how lucky we are to have farms around us, producers who work to sell what we need to take care of ourselves and at lower cost . I campaign by doing my part here to say that the enclave is not an injustice. “
She grew up in Saint-Saturnin, a village at the foot of volcanoes, 25 kilometers from Clermont-Ferrand. She remembers a childhood “heavenly” spent working “Figolu” under the nose of his two big brothers. Her mother, director of the Saint-Nectaire appellation, and her father, an agricultural researcher at INRA, still live in the village. His “job”, as she calls it, to tell stories. She has always read. Fed early on the voices of John Fante, Faulkner, Steinbeck, Bukowski. She discovers Yourcenar and her Flanders, Marie-Hélène Lafon and her Cantal. “Suddenly, I felt less alone. They allowed me to write with my land. “ Cécile Coulon also dares to write and publish poetry. “Not fashionable either, but it is changing. Poetry is particularly deployed on social networks, where it is read and in great demand. ” She has been living from her job since 2013. Since The king is not sleepy, a success “Dizzying” for which she received her first fine copyright check. She is then 23 years old. She buys movies, sneakers, books and a small apartment in Clermont-Ferrand. She goes “eat outside” and reassures: “Since I’m not from Auvergne for nothing, I put the rest aside.”
Cécile Coulon works. The smirk applied, she apologizes for using simple words to say it and gets restless: “Besides the books, nothing happens in my life.” Since it started in a small local publishing house “To the good franquette”, since his revelation with The king is not sleepy at Viviane Hamy’s, she works, infuses, does nothing else. Even on vacation. She takes her manuscript and friends whom she willingly brings to bear. “I spent a studious week with Cécile in her family home in Drôme”, reports Myriam Lépron, a friend who is a university professor. “A week of reading, proofreading, rewriting, walks and swimming.” The author never rejoices for long. “One book is fleeting, and the next one ever played.” His entire body bears the marks. “I often get images of each of my works tattooed to keep track of them.” Whether hoisted or not on her roof, Cécile Coulon contemplates these words which she adores Bernard de Chartres and which she would stick to our skin: “We are dwarves perched on the shoulders of giants.”
June 13, 1990 Birth.
2012The king is not sleepy.
2017Three Storm Seasons.
2019A beast in paradise.
Because of the confinement, the interviews and photos of the last page portrait can be carried out remotely.
In these times of generalized confinement, we have an old family legend about lentils, peddled from generation to generation. That of a grandfather lost somewhere between the Meuse and the Somme during the First World War. Imagine, survival in the mud and shit of the trenches. Another form of containment. We pulled the bayonet out of the barrel, under the machine gun, to expose ourselves to another kind of deadly virus. In the family story, our furry young grandfather had been stranded for days under a bus storm when a ladle of lentils was thrown into his bowl and he lapped up without paying attention to this ragougnasse. Up to the spoon too much, when a nasty piece of junk was stuck in one of his ratiches, causing him terrible pain that he had to endure for three days and three nights. “We were in the middle of a pipe breaker, he said. Me, it was nothing, my tooth, next to the comrades who had their holes drilled. But if you knew what I tasted … “
One day, he told us that he may have survived this steel storm because he had “The rage that you treat your tooth”. He had kept from this painful episode a holy scare of lentils, which made him say when he was served: “You trilled them well, didn’t you?” Are there more stones or scrap? ”
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Not only is the lentil today, most of the time, well sorted but it is above all a precious vegetable protein and a universal legume in all cuisines of the world. In France alone, there is a slew of varieties to delight all the simmerings: we think of green lentils from Puy, Berry but also the blonde from Saint-Flour and lentil from Champagne.
We borrowed its lentil curry from multi-star chef Guy Savoy in his amazing book Gourmet vegetables (1). You need 100 g of carrots; 100 g onions; 200 g lentils; a teaspoon of curry powder; 15 cl of fresh cream; a tomato; a knob of butter; salt and pepper.
Wash the lentils several times in plenty of water and soak them for 45 minutes, then drain them.
Peel onions and carrots and cut them into small dice four millimeters per side. Put these in a frying pan over a low heat with a knob of butter, just long enough to let them return their vegetable water. Then add the lentils and twice their volume of water. Put a lid and cook over low heat 45 minutes. In the meantime, check from time to time that there is enough liquid in the pan so that it does not stick and, if necessary, add a little water.
After 45 minutes of cooking, add 15 cl of fresh cream and a teaspoon of curry powder. The cream will first liquefy, then when the boiling begins, it will start to reduce.
Meanwhile, world a tomato. Start by cutting a cone around the tail with a small pointed knife in order to remove the slightly hard part of the flesh at the same time. To peel the tomato, cut a small cross at the base of the fruit then immerse it for twelve seconds in a saucepan of boiling water, and then fifteen seconds in cold water. The skin then withdraws on its own.
Cut the tomato crosswise and, using the knife, remove the seeds and the pulp to keep only the flesh. Then cut the tomato into small dice.
Pour the lentils into a baking dish. Add the diced tomatoes and place in the oven for three minutes, enough time to heat the tomato.
(1) Gourmet vegetables by Guy Savoy with Guy Langlois (ed. Plon, 1985)
We didn’t really see him coming, all of us confined (almost all). However, there were indications: the beginning of spring ten days ago, the sky more and more clear, the time change last weekend … April is here. As the seasons do not wait for the end of confinement to succeed, the beginning of April also means that it is the last month – before, hopefully, their return in October – to eat chicory, or chicons as they are called in the North and in Belgium.
Among the recipes in video that the Lyon chef Joseph Viola (1), best worker in France in 2004, offers these days on Instagram, we salivated before its endives with ham. For two people, you need: 4 slices of white ham, 4 endives, about 150 grams of grated Gruyère cheese, a little lemon juice (not compulsory). And for the béchamel: 150 grams of liquid cream, 350 grams of milk, 40 grams of butter, 40 grams of flour, nutmeg, salt, pepper.
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Wash the endives and place them in a casserole dish, with a little water, just “the bottom [de la cocotte], says the cook. We tend to cook vegetables too much, we distort them. ” Add coarse salt and a knob of butter, cover. Cook for about twenty minutes. During this time, prepare the béchamel: melt the butter, without letting it color, add the flour, mix quickly off the heat and put back on the heat for a little minute, still without going to the coloring. Add half the cold milk, beat well so that the preparation is smooth. Salt, pepper, nutmeg. Add the rest of the milk and the cream, mix well over the heat so that the sauce thickens a little.
With the tip of a knife, check the cooking of the endives, cook for a few more minutes if necessary by adding a little lemon juice “So that the endives stay very white”, advises Joseph Viola. Add the endive broth to the béchamel, whisk. Add half of the cheese to the béchamel.
Butter a baking dish, pour a few spoons of béchamel in the bottom. Wrap the endives in slices of ham, place them in the dish. Pour the rest of the béchamel on top – “It must be abundant and cover the ham well” – and grated cheese. The, “You have to be generous”. Bake for ten minutes, until the cheese gratin and the béchamel begins to bubble.
(1) Daniel and Denise, 156 rue de Créqui, Lyon IIIe, 8 rue Cuirre, Lyon IVe, and 36 rue Tramassac, Lyon Ve.
Unemployed technically. A week ago, the sounds of pots and pans in the kitchens gave way, for an indefinite period, to silence. Many restaurants were using social media to sell their perishable supplies to neighbors in the neighborhood on Monday. Since then, chefs, caterers, pastry chefs … have continued to share their passion for good food in a different way: some people post recipes that can be made at home online, others have wine delivered to them, taste it and talk about it in their stories on Instagram, others are still filming in the process of simmering and giving live advice, in a master class way from their personal kitchen. In short, if the doors of establishments are closed for now (at least those who do not deliver at home), the craftsmen who delight us are still there. And, paradoxically, almost closer than normal to those they feed.
Thursday, Bastien Depietri, the head of Bistrot d’Abel (1), a cork located on the Lyon peninsula, proposed on Instagram his chicken vinegar recipe. It is done in two stages and is therefore well suited for weekends. On Saturday, cut a raw farm chicken and marinate it in 15 cl of red vinegar, 15 cl of white wine, 3 tablespoons of tomato puree and 3 tablespoons of Dijon mustard. Sunday, drain the chicken and brown the pieces in a spoon of oil (with salt and pepper) to give it a nice color. Degrease and add the aromatic garnish (two chopped onions, 4 cloves of garlic, two sprigs of thyme, and add the marinade). Moisten with chicken broth and cook over low heat 45 minutes. Check the cooking, remove the pieces. Reduce the juice, adjust the seasoning. Serve with rice and if desired, chopped tarragon. The recipe is given for four people.
For the past fifteen years, Eric Giacometti and Jacques Ravenne have been the delighted creators of Antoine Marcas, Freemason curator who, according to his investigations (sold over two and a half million copies in France!), S ” specializes in the fight against the dark forces and secret societies of all persuasions, as evidenced by the titles of their novels with evocative names: the Shadow Ritual, Conjuration Casanova, the Blood Brother, the Cross of the Assassins…
The humanism of the divorced and somewhat depressed policeman is opposed by a gallery of wicked-very-wicked, sadistic and bloodthirsty Templars, Illuminati, devil worshipers, Vatican moles and other necromancers, plotting their madness in all the great myths of the Middle Age ; number of volumes making successful round trips between contemporary Paris and the Jerusalem of the Crusaders, the Cathar fortresses or the pyres of Philip the Fair.
With the cycle of the Black Sun, an ambitious triptych whose third volume is expected in the spring, the two authors continue to draw their esoteric furrow. The story begins in January 1939 in Tibet. An SS expedition gets hold of a Swastika chiseled from an unknown metal. One of the four sacred relics which, according to an ancient prophecy, will allow whoever detains them to become master of the world …
Behind this pitch that Indiana Jones or the Guardians of the Galaxy would not deny, the Triumph of darkness (released in 2018) and the Night of Evil (published in 2019) are in fact two extremely documented novels (1) on the fascination of the Nazis, at the forefront of which Himmler and his SS, for the occult sciences, Nordic mythology and the deified origins of the Aryan race. A mystical quest conducted with all the rigor, madness and savagery of Hitler by an army of archaeologists, anthropologists and misguided researchers.
Behind the scenes of the Ahnenerbe (the real SS institute, specializing in esotericism and the study of Germanic antiquity) to the British secret service training camps, passing through Franco jails, Venice or the hunts after Goering, a breathless race begins to find the mysterious swastikas on which the final victory will depend.
Combining fictional characters and historical figures (Churchill, Rudolf Hess and an extraordinary Ian Fleming – the father of James Bond -, naval intelligence officer during the conflict that the authors brilliantly integrate into history), the Triumph of darkness and the Night of Evil follow the intrigue with all the ingredients that make the salt of this type of reading – improbable twists, fresh heroine, poisonous spy and cliffhangers to close each chapter. In the last chapter of the second volume, three Swastikas were found … Who will discover the last? Response in May with volume III.
(1) Creation of concentration camps, studies on races, eugenics… At the end of each volume, long notes draw a line between fiction and reality; a dizzying plunge into the murderous madness of Hitler and his entourage.
The Triumph of Darkness and The Night of Evil, by Eric Giacometti and Jacques Ravenne. Editions J.C Lattès.