Food
Now that I’m back home again, I hope to really get back into the groove with eating and exercising. I spent about half an hour this morning going thru cupboards and the pantry looking to see what I need to buy. Everything. Well, almost everything! I still have some spices and herbs, plus I dug out an unopened peanut butter I’d stashed away before leaving. Since we walk to the supermarket and the open market, this means several trips before everything is back to normal stock. Mel always goes with me because I just can’t carry the heavy bags home, even though it’s just half a mile. I tried to bring my little purple handcart once, but then I had a hard time getting it up three flights of stairs! If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Heh heh. So, after breakfast digests a little bit, we’ll head out. Fortunately we do have a western style supermarket so close now. (I ship over several items like the peanut butter that we still can’t get here and that I prefer to cook with.)
Our landlord disconnected our water filter while we were gone because the on-demand water heater was leaking. I’m sure it’s ruined since it hasn’t been used in more than half a year. Mold, etc. The water here is really salty, so we’ll have to buy water as well until we can come up with another water filter. It’s just not safe to drink the water without the filter (heavy metal pollution mostly, but who knows what little critters are in there as well – they only bleach the whole system once a year). The saltier water has done a number on my houseplants. Some are dead and gone, others will not recover, and a couple look ok. What a disappointment. But water costs money to buy and our Ukrainian friends have so little that I knew they would not buy it, even though we left enough money for that as well.
It felt good to cook breakfast again this morning. It’s kind of strange to me, but I prefer cooking here over cooking in the States. The food tastes better, for one thing. I had adequate room to work in the kitchen of the townhouse we were renting recently – but it wasn’t “my” kitchen and I didn’t have “my things.” Also, I didn’t have all the spices, herbs and food supplies that I usually cook with. The kitchen here is really little – Mel can reach out and touch all of the walls while standing in the center. Of course, he has long arms – but it truly is teeny. When both of us are in there together, there is not a whole lot of room left over. I had forgotten how dark and dreary the lighting is. We have a florescent light over the counter, but the light fixture in the center of the ceiling is ancient and the bulb glows kind of yellowish instead of pure “white light” that illuminates everything well. I told Mel I want to replace the fixture as soon as possible. With my bad eyesight I need good light, especially in the kitchen. When standing at the sink, the light is behind me so there is a shadow over the sink as I work. Hopefully we can find a nice fixture that is appropriate for a kitchen and gives good light.
Back to the food – I think it’s because we buy so much fresh here, veggies and fruits, that everything seems to taste better. Not a lot of waxed stuff, not a lot of preservatives in stuff. And I cook mostly from scratch here. The veggies definitely have more taste than in the States, but that is because they are not picked before they are ripe and then shipped all across the country and artificially ripened. Of course, we do get stuff from Turkey and Israel, especially in the winter, but for some reason it still has a tendency to taste more like what you might buy at a farmer’s market in the States.
The bread is great here, too. I shipped my grain mill over, however, and plan on buying some whole grains and grinding my own flour. I have not found whole wheat flour anywhere here and I prefer to use it. I also have not found cornmeal such as we have in the States. I shipped some over, but I’m going to try and grind some dried corn and see what I come up with. I’m afraid the texture will not be right, but who knows, maybe I’ll come up with a new style of cornbread! The “healthy” bread here has “oatruby” in it – bran. It seems strange to ask for “bread for your health,” or “oatruby bread.”
Cheese is also very good here. There are so many varieties, except for American style cheddars. We get Edomski, Golandski (Holland), Russiski and Ukraineski cheeses most of the time. Sometimes, for an extra treat to have with wine, I’ll buy the exact same camembert or brie that I have bought in the States. It’s expensive, though, so we only get it occasionally. I like the Russiski cheese fried. Cut off a hunk and stick it in a frying pan and cook it until it’s crispy. I was amazed at the amount of fat that is rendered out of it the first time I tried it. But it sure tastes good on a piece of toast for lunch! And a good deal of the fat is then in the pan, not on the bread.
Meat is a whole ‘nother story. I have a hard time buying meat here. I’ve seen the way it’s butchered and I have to admit, I have a hard time eating it afterward. I do buy pork roasts and farsh, a kind of pork and beef hamburger, on a regular basis. I prefer not to think about what might be in the farsh … Maybe I’ll try to grind my own this year. If Mel will go to the meat market and buy the hunks of meat for me! The first time I bought meat the butcher dropped the piece I wanted on the floor, picked it up and put it in a plastic bag and gave it to me. I took it home, froze it for several weeks, then stuck it in bleach water for about half an hour before I completely thawed it. I had a hard time eating it, even then (it didn’t taste like bleach) because I kept seeing it lying on that filthy floor. That was years ago when I didn’t have the confidence to say give me another piece, that ones’ dirty now! Now I’d argue and refuse it. Ah – I’ve grown and changed! hahahahaha
Sleepless in Kiev – somehow it doesn’t have quite the same sound as Sleepless in Seattle. However, I was sleepless in the Seattle area four weeks or so ago, so at least I know how it feels to be Sleepless near Seattle. I woke up sometime between 1 and 2 am this morning. Finally got up, went to the bathroom and took a peek at the little clock on Mel’s side of the bed at 3 am. I went into the little kitchen here in this flat we’re staying in and ate a Finn Crisp (said so in plain English on the package), otherwise known as a rye crisp, plus 7 or 8 almonds. As I lay back down to try and go back to sleep, I was trying to remember what almond is in Russian. Mandan? No, that’s an American Indian tribe. Mandolin? No, that’s a musical instrument. Guess I’ll have to go look at the package and see what it says.
Unfortunately I woke Mel up when I came back to bed. He’s awake now, too. So, now it’s 4:30 am and I’m still sleepless in Kiev.
Before I accidentally woke Mel up, I was lying there on my side of the bed, trying to be as quiet as a church mouse (I actually saw a church mouse in Salzburg, Austria, a few years ago. He was running along the baseboard in an old Catholic church, headed for the door, and yes, he was very quiet.). I was thinking of yesterday morning when Mel and I went to the local bazaar, or outdoor market, about 11 am. It was snowing quite heavily, the sidewalks were like trying to walk on/through a filthy sugar-free Icee, and there was water several inches deep off the curb at every street crossing. Hard on my shoes, but great in helping me to learn better balance control. Just an ordinary winter day in Ukraine. The outdoor section of the market was mostly closed due to all of the snow piled up between the rows of stalls. But the inside section was open for business as usual.
We wandered around inside, looking for balik (ham) and colbasa (sausage) that Mel could eat tomorrow (which happens to now be today) for lunch on the way down from Kiev to Kherson. We found some great stuff which Mel promptly bought. He had all the money. Then we looked at veggies and fruit – what a wonderful selection. We don’t have anything like it in Kherson yet. Maybe we never will. This indoor section of the market has two floors. Well, actually, it’s an arena type building with all the meats, milk products, lots of fruits and veggies etc. on the first level. There is a broad shallow stepped staircase that ascends to the next tier, which would be the first level of seating in a real arena. We slowly walked up them as I looked out over the railing to the fresh meat department below us on that side. Oh my. Pig heads just sitting there on the counter. You know – pigs have huge heads. Lots of hunks of meat hanging from hooks at eye level, lots of slabs of meat and fat lying on the counter for people to poke and prod and decide if they want to buy. The smell makes me feel nauseous. It was interesting to watch a butcher working right beside the first few steps, on the other side of the railing. He had a huge hatchet with a very heavy head. He was chopping up bones. Raise the hatchet, swing it down – crunch! Bones here, bones there.
As I lay there wide awake this morning I started thinking about that butcher and what he was doing. A huge heavy hatchet, a wooden block, all sorts of bones with pink bits of flesh clinging to them, lying all around him, in the back of the fresh meat market up against the stairs. Don’t stand too close to the railing! You might get splattered with bits of bone and meat. But probably not – we didn’t. I wondered: how do they cut the bones in America? Is there some guy behind the wall at Safeway, standing there with a huge hatchet and a wooden block, hacking away at pig and cow bones? I think not. Instead, there is some guy standing in front of a saw, pushing bones through, zzzzzzrrrrrrhhhh, with medium sized soup bones popping out the other side. And I wondered, which is worse for you – chips you might accidentally ingest from bones chopped with a hatchet, or tiny bits of bone left in the meat from the blade of a saw. Well, I would imagine that the tiny bits might partially digest while going through the digestive system. On the other hand, chips of bone could get stuck in the villi of the intestine, causing pain, infection, maybe even death if you are a pensioner in poor health living on bread and broth made from pig or cow bones and lacking in many vitamins and minerals. I wondered how many people die each year from bone chips stuck in their intestines. (Then I turned over again.)
Which made my tired but very awake mind remember the time I swallowed a hard plastic chicken. I was only 8 or 9 years old at the time and was chewing on a small toy chicken I’d found some place. I remember distinctly that it was kind of a very dark teal blue, and had a very sharp beak, feet and comb. It hurt all the way down. I can’t remember why I swallowed it, just that I did. And ended up with a trip to the doctor’s office with a parent who was not very happy with me. I also remember when it came out again. Very painful. I also had to go to the doctor one time with a piece of fishing line tied around one of the taste buds on my tongue. It was a short, straight piece of fishing line when I started chewing it. Tongue action somehow wound it around that taste bud and tied it in a knot. Very painful.
PS – Almond in Russian (or is it Ukrainian???) is Meegdahl. Now, if I can just somehow associate almonds with Russian MIGs and Ukrainian nesting dolls, I’ll have the word next time I need it. At least I remembered it started with an “m”.
PSS – I am very tired. Maybe I’ll sleep better tonight in my own bed.
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