For the Holy See, I had just one thought: Communion wafers.
I mean, when one thinks of Catholic cuisine, that’s about it, right? Glutinous metaphoric bits of bread for parishioners.
But that’s less of a blog post, and more of an April Fool’s Joke.
For the Holy See, I had just one thought: Communion wafers.
I mean, when one thinks of Catholic cuisine, that’s about it, right? Glutinous metaphoric bits of bread for parishioners.
But that’s less of a blog post, and more of an April Fool’s Joke.
Summer isn’t exactly prime borscht season.
As it turns out, though, I made my borscht six months ago.
Having a blog and a baby simultaneously are hard.
We knew this, of course, but it still bears repeating. Having time to cook sophisticatedย meals in the midst of my grow-your-own-roommate project is challenging.
Luckily, Russia’s national soup, shchi, was not sophisticated.
Grey.
Boring. Cloudy. Winter. Bland. Wishy-washy. Old.
If you tell me you didn’t think of any of that when I mentioned “grey,” you’re joking yourself.
The week after hakarl was a rough one.
The consumption of rotten fish meat left me queasy for the two days after the ill-advised event, and later that week, I got a likely-unrelated stomach bug.