I suppose it's fitting, in some way, that in my last week living in Prague with my host family that they would give me sauerkraut. It's one of the national foods, I'm pretty sure, right after everything fried, fatty, and greasy that you can think of. So, as a fond farewell, they gave me dumplings, meat, and sauerkraut (a Czech tv dinner, actually) for dinner tonight. It actually wasn't my farewell dinner, but I can't think of anything more "Czech" that they could have given me.
HOWEVER. I have to say that this at this "farewell dinner," there were not tears just because it was a "farewell" or because they fed me sauerkraut. In fact, there were no tears over sauerkraut. And this is exactly why they were tears. When they handed me my plate with dumplings lining the outside edge and the meat completely covered by the veritable pile of sauerkraut, I cheered inside. I knew that this moment was going to come at some point--for the last week, I have found myself thinking of sauerkraut at night, about the same time that I start thinking about bed.
The time that I set aside for thinking about bed is a sacred time. Bed is possibly one of my favorite parts of the day (I attribute it to my love of sitting back and watching the dreams my unconscious hands to me, rather than actually just enjoying being unconscious), particularly in the last week since I've been particularly tired and sick lately.
SAUERKRAUT SHOULD NOT BE GIVEN THE SAME STATUS AS BED.
Unfortunately, it was. I tried to deny it as much as possible, but when the bell dinged on the microwave, and a steaming hot plate of knedliky and sauerkraut was carried into the room, there was nothing I could do but sigh in relief that they had finally given me this. It has been months since they have fed it to me--I think they must have noticed that whenever they would feed it to me, I would eat very little of it while polishing off the meat and dumplings. They must have picked up on it somehow. And, now, two or three months later, I had to shed a silent tear as they placed the plate in front of me, not for that fact that they were giving it to me, but for the fact that it had taken them this long to give it to me again.
Showing posts with label sauerkraut. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sauerkraut. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Daka's Progress
A few weeks after I got here, and after giving me a particularly large pile of sauerkraut at dinner, Daka confided in me that she planned on sending me home with curves.
Update on Daka's Progress:
Despite all her attempts to fatten me up and give me some good child-bearing curves, she is not succeeding. Every night at dinner I feel like I'm at the State Fair because of all the fried food--they give me weiner schnitzel, chicken schnitzel, sausage schnitzel, fried zucchini, fried cauliflower, and, my Achilles' Heel, POTATOES of all wonderful and glorious kinds--but in spite of all this, somehow I seem to be losing finger fat.
For my eighteenth birthday, my parents got me a ring--the stone is a blue opal (my birth stone as well as my zodiac stone, whatever those are called) set in white gold. It's very pretty and when I got it, it fit. I have been having problems with it of late. It twists around on my finger, it moves up and down my finger, and, if it gets cold enough (my fingers get thinner when it's cold, I guess) it has the nasty habit of flying off. This happened while in line at the Reichstag over the weekend.
It could just be a flukey thing. Maybe I never noticed that it didn't fit me all that well. EXCEPT, while in Ireland this summer, I bought myself a Cladagh ring, sometimes known as the Irish wedding ring. This ring was a great purchase and, because the style of it was so different from the others, there was only one size of it. It was a bit snug, but with some tugging the ring would come off unless my fingers were swelled from heat. I have since quit wearing the ring because of some technical difficulties with it, but after trying it on five minutes ago, I realize that the snugness is gone. While it still fits me closer than the other ring, it comes off too easily, though still not the loose cannon the other ring is.
From deductive reasoning, and because of these two occurrences, I have come to believe that Daka's plan is failing. I cannot be sure, however. It is entirely possible that all of my former finger fat is migrating to my hips, thus making me curvier. But when it comes to seeing whether or not Daka has managed to put more meat on me, I am unable to determine this. There is a scale in the bathroom of the house. Before I left, though, I never weighed myself in kilograms. 60 kilograms, despite being how much I weigh, according to their scale, is a meaningless number to me. I don't know how much it is.
Therefore, I can only conclude that Daka's plan has not yet come to fruition, and that I rapidly losing my finger fat.
Update on Daka's Progress:
Despite all her attempts to fatten me up and give me some good child-bearing curves, she is not succeeding. Every night at dinner I feel like I'm at the State Fair because of all the fried food--they give me weiner schnitzel, chicken schnitzel, sausage schnitzel, fried zucchini, fried cauliflower, and, my Achilles' Heel, POTATOES of all wonderful and glorious kinds--but in spite of all this, somehow I seem to be losing finger fat.
For my eighteenth birthday, my parents got me a ring--the stone is a blue opal (my birth stone as well as my zodiac stone, whatever those are called) set in white gold. It's very pretty and when I got it, it fit. I have been having problems with it of late. It twists around on my finger, it moves up and down my finger, and, if it gets cold enough (my fingers get thinner when it's cold, I guess) it has the nasty habit of flying off. This happened while in line at the Reichstag over the weekend.
It could just be a flukey thing. Maybe I never noticed that it didn't fit me all that well. EXCEPT, while in Ireland this summer, I bought myself a Cladagh ring, sometimes known as the Irish wedding ring. This ring was a great purchase and, because the style of it was so different from the others, there was only one size of it. It was a bit snug, but with some tugging the ring would come off unless my fingers were swelled from heat. I have since quit wearing the ring because of some technical difficulties with it, but after trying it on five minutes ago, I realize that the snugness is gone. While it still fits me closer than the other ring, it comes off too easily, though still not the loose cannon the other ring is.
From deductive reasoning, and because of these two occurrences, I have come to believe that Daka's plan is failing. I cannot be sure, however. It is entirely possible that all of my former finger fat is migrating to my hips, thus making me curvier. But when it comes to seeing whether or not Daka has managed to put more meat on me, I am unable to determine this. There is a scale in the bathroom of the house. Before I left, though, I never weighed myself in kilograms. 60 kilograms, despite being how much I weigh, according to their scale, is a meaningless number to me. I don't know how much it is.
Therefore, I can only conclude that Daka's plan has not yet come to fruition, and that I rapidly losing my finger fat.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Housekeeping
Just a few housekeeping things before the weekend starts, just to get you all up to date on where I'm at (mentally--physically I'm at home in Prague).
1. Patrick Swayze died. I just learned this. Apparently news travels slower across the Atlantic than mail (Grandma sent me a letter on Monday and I got it today, and by my calculations, it took me 10 days to hear of Patrick Swayze's death).
2. Bob Barker is 85. After I heard the unfortunate news about Patrick Swayze, I checked on Bob Barker to see where he's at. He's still fighting for animal rights, it would appear.
3. Everyone hates Poland. Whenever I tell [Czech] people that I am going to Poland this weekend (by the way, I am going to Poland this weekend), they all ask, "Why?" I never know how to answer this because, honestly, I don't know. I am hoping that when I get there I find something to do, but looking ahead to this trip, I have to ask myself, "How am I going to keep myself occupied for the next three days?"
4. My blog has had 43 views. When I discovered how to check how many views it has, it had 40 views. Since then I have checked it three other times to see how many views it has. It figures.
5. I hate sauerkraut. This is not an overstatement. This is probably the truest statement I have said thus far in my blog. Sauerkraut is quite possibly the bane of my existence (in the food world at least) apart from animal organs and mushrooms. It is therefore most upsetting to me that I have stumbled upon a country where sauerkraut seems to be its own food group. Everything else about Czech food makes my mouth water--goulash, dumplings (both bread and potato), potatoes, meat, and beer (only when washing down dumplings)--but sauerkraut makes me sick. The first time I had it, I was fooled until I sat down at the table. They had told me we were eating cabbage. They served me sauerkraut. I didn't even realize that sauerkraut comes from cabbage--it smells like some vile substance that could not have come from a plant, or at least if it it come from some formerly living thing, it would be from onions which already smell weird (though taste delicious).
It kills me that they keep feeding it to me. When eating it, I have to make sure the meat and dumpling to sauerkraut ratio is in my favor, though this gets difficult. Daka has taken it into her head that she will send me back to the States with curves. I am fine with this--as long as the curves come from food that tastes good. Meat? Fine. Dumplings? Sure. Chocolate? Sign me up for gaining 5 kilos. Potatoes? Definitely. Sauerkraut? Please shoot me in the foot and never allow me to eat again.
Honestly. Sauerkraut sucks all the fun out of eating.
Tonight we had sauerkraut. It was red for some reason, I'm assuming it's from the sauce. And dumplings, and veprove (pork). They gave me four dumplings, two and a half pieces of meat, and a veritable mountain of sauerkraut. I would have just eaten the dumplings and meat, but Daka was watching, and already the rest of my food had been contaminated by the "cabbage," so I decided to make everyone (except myself, my stomach, and my tastebuds) happy and ate it.
To review:
Patrick Swayze: dead
Bob Barker: alive
Poland: universally loathed (by the CR)
Blog views: 43 (about 75% are from me admiring how nice it looks)
Sauerkraut: bane of my existence
1. Patrick Swayze died. I just learned this. Apparently news travels slower across the Atlantic than mail (Grandma sent me a letter on Monday and I got it today, and by my calculations, it took me 10 days to hear of Patrick Swayze's death).
2. Bob Barker is 85. After I heard the unfortunate news about Patrick Swayze, I checked on Bob Barker to see where he's at. He's still fighting for animal rights, it would appear.
3. Everyone hates Poland. Whenever I tell [Czech] people that I am going to Poland this weekend (by the way, I am going to Poland this weekend), they all ask, "Why?" I never know how to answer this because, honestly, I don't know. I am hoping that when I get there I find something to do, but looking ahead to this trip, I have to ask myself, "How am I going to keep myself occupied for the next three days?"
4. My blog has had 43 views. When I discovered how to check how many views it has, it had 40 views. Since then I have checked it three other times to see how many views it has. It figures.
5. I hate sauerkraut. This is not an overstatement. This is probably the truest statement I have said thus far in my blog. Sauerkraut is quite possibly the bane of my existence (in the food world at least) apart from animal organs and mushrooms. It is therefore most upsetting to me that I have stumbled upon a country where sauerkraut seems to be its own food group. Everything else about Czech food makes my mouth water--goulash, dumplings (both bread and potato), potatoes, meat, and beer (only when washing down dumplings)--but sauerkraut makes me sick. The first time I had it, I was fooled until I sat down at the table. They had told me we were eating cabbage. They served me sauerkraut. I didn't even realize that sauerkraut comes from cabbage--it smells like some vile substance that could not have come from a plant, or at least if it it come from some formerly living thing, it would be from onions which already smell weird (though taste delicious).
It kills me that they keep feeding it to me. When eating it, I have to make sure the meat and dumpling to sauerkraut ratio is in my favor, though this gets difficult. Daka has taken it into her head that she will send me back to the States with curves. I am fine with this--as long as the curves come from food that tastes good. Meat? Fine. Dumplings? Sure. Chocolate? Sign me up for gaining 5 kilos. Potatoes? Definitely. Sauerkraut? Please shoot me in the foot and never allow me to eat again.
Honestly. Sauerkraut sucks all the fun out of eating.
Tonight we had sauerkraut. It was red for some reason, I'm assuming it's from the sauce. And dumplings, and veprove (pork). They gave me four dumplings, two and a half pieces of meat, and a veritable mountain of sauerkraut. I would have just eaten the dumplings and meat, but Daka was watching, and already the rest of my food had been contaminated by the "cabbage," so I decided to make everyone (except myself, my stomach, and my tastebuds) happy and ate it.
To review:
Patrick Swayze: dead
Bob Barker: alive
Poland: universally loathed (by the CR)
Blog views: 43 (about 75% are from me admiring how nice it looks)
Sauerkraut: bane of my existence
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