In the last week I've met some fantastic people -- even a group of black American basketball players, one of whom is soooo country! I LOVE IT!
I spent the morning at the Russian Embassy trying to arrange for a Visa to Russia (I wasn't sure, to be honest, that they'd even consider it considering I'm an American!). I leave next Tuesday on a week-long mission to talk to journalists in that country about their work. It'll be my first mission with the International Center for Journalists, so I'm excited. After that, I head to Turkey to participate in a discussion about press freedom! It's a darn good thing I got those extra passport pages before I left the States!
Remind me to send photos of our dinner this past weekend at our new friend Salem's house. Of Mexican-American heritage, she made mole (with the accent on the 'e'), black beans and rice. It was delicious! Nicholai is promising to have her and her kids over next for fried fish, peas and rice and plaintains. Even I can't wait for that!
Alison
9:24 p.m.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Sturm
Fall in Vienna is not only ushered in by cool breezes and an end to many of the summer markets and festivals, but it is also the time of year when sturm is introduced. Sturm is fermenting grape juice taken from the first grape harvest. It is on sale in Vienna for only a few weeks in the fall because it has to be consumed quickly since it is still fermenting. It comes in white or red and costs anywhere from 1 euro to 1,40 euros a glass. And, as every local will warn you, it is strong (because of the high sugar content). As my husband will tell you, "It ain't strong." Ha. Okay, Big Daddy.
Nicholai has taken a huge liking to the sweet, slightly fermented red "wine." The other day, he had like five glasses! He stood and his eyes were glazed over. I lmao.
"It'd be good if you could pick up a bottle of sturm," he tells me when I ask him if he needs anything from the grocery. (Silently I laugh.) No problem. At least it's a soft introduction to wine for my beer-drinking husband, who also marvels at what he describes as the wonderful taste of (Chinese) plum wine. Who knows. Maybe in a months time I can move him on to real wine. Now THAT would be amazing!
alison
Sunday, 11:05 p.m.
Nicholai has taken a huge liking to the sweet, slightly fermented red "wine." The other day, he had like five glasses! He stood and his eyes were glazed over. I lmao.
"It'd be good if you could pick up a bottle of sturm," he tells me when I ask him if he needs anything from the grocery. (Silently I laugh.) No problem. At least it's a soft introduction to wine for my beer-drinking husband, who also marvels at what he describes as the wonderful taste of (Chinese) plum wine. Who knows. Maybe in a months time I can move him on to real wine. Now THAT would be amazing!
alison
Sunday, 11:05 p.m.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Ah ha!
Now I know what the woman at the cash register at the grocery store was trying to ask me! She wanted to know if I had a Billa card! Basically a discount card for the grocery store. I went into the store during lunch today and the woman checking me out figured out pretty quickly that I couldn't speak enough German to really talk to her, so she asked me in English, "Do you have a Billa card?" Ahhh. And the light bulb went off. Cool.
What some people eat for lunch here you Americans might find very odd, not to mention paltry. It's like fancy picnic food (and I'm not talking Paula Dean picnic food!) or homemade antipasto is even a better way to describe it. First they pull out the sesame or multigrain bagel and then lay slices of cheese across the bread. Then they cut up a handful of yellow bell peppers or toss some arugula (aka rucola) or maybe a thin slice or two or proscuitto on the side and that's it. I saw one of our interns in the office kitchen yesterday making this same kind of combo on a plate the size of both my hands together (thumbs pressed to the side of the forefinger). I asked if she wanted to use the microwave so she could melt her cheese on the bread. You should have seen the look! But she was polite, "You know," she said, "that's a good idea. I was kind of thinking about that, but maybe it would make the bread not so fresh."
Duh. Righhhttt. And the cheese was probably something special, too.
Meanwhile, me and the Canadian are laddling up gobs of jambalaya or microwaving bowls of chili with a hefty salad on the side or carting Burger King through the door (well, that's more me than the Canadian. But, hey, I only did it once! Good grief!).
Of course, all of this could very well just be the people in my office because you can hear all the way up on the second floor the silverware scraping the plates at the cafe below and the smell of bacon and sausages fills the air beginning at 11 a.m. ...
In other news, Nicholai has another baseball tournament this weekend. I don't understand why he can't go to church on Sunday and THEN the game. (humph) I'm convinced it's an anti-Baptist plot (remember: My husband is Catholic).
Alison
Friday, 11 September, 12:08 a.m.
I should be in bed! ASLEEP!
What some people eat for lunch here you Americans might find very odd, not to mention paltry. It's like fancy picnic food (and I'm not talking Paula Dean picnic food!) or homemade antipasto is even a better way to describe it. First they pull out the sesame or multigrain bagel and then lay slices of cheese across the bread. Then they cut up a handful of yellow bell peppers or toss some arugula (aka rucola) or maybe a thin slice or two or proscuitto on the side and that's it. I saw one of our interns in the office kitchen yesterday making this same kind of combo on a plate the size of both my hands together (thumbs pressed to the side of the forefinger). I asked if she wanted to use the microwave so she could melt her cheese on the bread. You should have seen the look! But she was polite, "You know," she said, "that's a good idea. I was kind of thinking about that, but maybe it would make the bread not so fresh."
Duh. Righhhttt. And the cheese was probably something special, too.
Meanwhile, me and the Canadian are laddling up gobs of jambalaya or microwaving bowls of chili with a hefty salad on the side or carting Burger King through the door (well, that's more me than the Canadian. But, hey, I only did it once! Good grief!).
Of course, all of this could very well just be the people in my office because you can hear all the way up on the second floor the silverware scraping the plates at the cafe below and the smell of bacon and sausages fills the air beginning at 11 a.m. ...
In other news, Nicholai has another baseball tournament this weekend. I don't understand why he can't go to church on Sunday and THEN the game. (humph) I'm convinced it's an anti-Baptist plot (remember: My husband is Catholic).
Alison
Friday, 11 September, 12:08 a.m.
I should be in bed! ASLEEP!
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