Archive for Food & Drinks

Curry and cultural learning

February 3, 2012 / Backpacking Ninja / One comment
Cauliflower Curry

So, before all my Indian friends read this and ask me ‘when did you turn British?’, let me clarify that I do know that ‘curry’ is a short term for vegetable in South India (karigai) and ‘any Indian dish with gravy’ in North India (otherwise also referred to as x masala, y masala, z curry and so on). Ideally, that is how it is defined in the dictionary as well – ‘a spicy dish of oriental, esp Indian, origin that is made in many ways but usually consists of meat or fish prepared in with curry seasoning or sauce’.

So, if I were to randomly suggest ‘let’s go for a curry’ in India, someone may misconstrue this as vegetable shopping and wonder why I invited them for the same. Or, they may ask ‘which curry do you want’. But, the answer I doubt would be ‘which curry place should we go to?’.

In London however, if I were to suggest curry, I’d be whisked off to Brick lane before I knew it. We may land up ordering Tandoori chicken or chicken tikka masala with naan and definitely, going by what I grew up with, this is in no means curry.

All this just made me wonder how on earth curry became the National dish of Britian. So, I looked up the history of curry in Britain and found this interesting article. Some snippets here.

As reported in the BBC News, the British have fancied Curry for more than 200 years now. “Indian dishes, in the highest perfection… unequalled to any curries ever made in England.” So ran the 1809 newspaper advert for a new eating establishment in an upmarket London square popular with colonial returnees. Diners at the Hindostanee Coffee House could smoke hookah pipes and recline on bamboo-cane sofas as they tucked into spicy meat and vegetable dishes. This was the country’s first dedicated Indian restaurant, opened by an entrepreneurial migrant by the name of Dean Mahomed.

Peter Groves, co-founder of National Curry Week, which started on Sunday, says the Western taste for spicy foods developed centuries earlier. “All the spices of the East came back with the people who fought in the Crusades.” The lucrative spice trade prompted various European powers to establish their presence in India, either through trading companies or colonisation. This “masala” of cultures, and the Mughal conquest of India, resulted in hybrid creations, including Persian-inspired biryani and vindaloo, a Goan version of a Portuguese meat dish.

Indians tend to label dishes by specific names like korma and dopiaza. “Curry is a catch-all term,” says Dr Lizzie Collingham, author of Curry: A Tale of Cooks and Conquerors. “It’s easy shorthand for ‘what Indians eat’.”

Thanks to the British, the rest of the world or atleast Europe refers to any Indian food as Curry. Anyway, what does all this have to do with cultural learning. Going back and forth between Austria and London, I can’t tell you how much I miss the simple home cooked Indian curry. Far from the greasy, partially sweet, cashew gravy stuff they call Curry in London and the oily, fake garam masala heavy Curry I tried once in Austria.

In general, I cannot cook to save my life. Well, that’s what people at home (Mumbai) always told me. If anything can drive me to the kitchen, to cook a simple Indian curry, its the food in this part of the world. And, that has brought about a miraculous change in my cooking skills. I am not saying this. My Czech and German friends, who sampled my Indian cooking in Austria, think I’m the Jamie Oliver of India. True. That was one session a couple of months ago. It gave me hope that there would be other Austrians, happy to lend their kitchen for an experimental cooking session. That way, I get my home cooked meal and they get a taste of the real curry.

Photo credit: vegetarianzest.blogspot.com

After 3 months of constant search, I’ve managed that finally. But wait, here is the surprise. 2 British. 1 Australian. 1 Malaysian. 1 Venezuelan. 1 Czech. Confirmed. Funny that I couldn’t get 1 Austrian to confirm for a ‘Curry night’.

When I mentioned this to my friends back home, they said ‘what the hell is a curry night? Get the hell out of Austria and come home for some good food.’

When I mentioned this to a friend in London, he asked me innocently ‘Why? Don’t the Austrians like Curry?’. And, I thought to myself ‘Well, I don’t think the issue is with Curry. I just think the Austrians don’t like socializing’.

But hey! I think if I make a beer flavoured curry, I’ll have a few Austrians signing up for sure.

Category: Asia, Austria, England, Europe, Food & Drinks, India, London / Tags: , ,

Reality of Relocation

April 14, 2011 / admin / 8 comments

It has just been 3 weeks since I left Mumbai and technically moved to London, but actually spending more time in this little village called Fuschl outside Salzburg in Austria. No kidding. Feels like much longer, as I have spent most of my time in airports, woken up in strange rooms, eaten food I don’t recognise and more than anything, struglled to identify where home is. I tried to carry my sleeping bag everywhere, something familiar to cling on to.

So, I sat and made a list of things that have changed drastically in my life and have shaken me from my comfort zone.

Home. Familiarity of my apartment in Mumbai. The feeling of waking up with the sun on my face, having the coffee sitting on the window ledge, avoiding neighbours who I never bothered meeting. Everything was way too comfortable. New apartment in London – where everything is still too cold and strange. Where it took us ages to get nails up on walls to hang photos. Where the bar is a bookshelf converted into a bar. Where the TV is too far from the bed. Funnily, it is not London I’ve spent all that much time. The hotel room in Fuschl takes the cake. Set right next to the lake (everything in Fuschl is next to the lake), it is what one would imagine as the perfect little place for a holiday. Only difference, everything doesn’t look all that pretty when you keep checking your Blackberry and working every minute. Back to the hotel room, its basic. Pillows are soft, I love it. I don’t watch any TV, everything is in German. Hot shower. Great breakfast. What’s the dilemma. Last couple of days, I’ve been waking up wondering whether it is 6 30 am or 7 30 am, with the time difference between UK and Austria, snoozing till the time the location hits me. All in all, whether it is Caledonian Road or Downtown Fuschl as they call it, its all still alien. The only thing familiar about it is I dont know my neighbours in any city.

Commuting. I never thought I would say this. But, I miss the autos in Mumbai. No, I do not miss the honking. No, I do not miss the insane Andheri East traffic jams. Yes, I miss the 24 / 7 convenience of finding these little autos everywhere. In London, I’m married to the Tube and before I know it, I would be saying ‘Mind the Gap’ as a part of my regular vocabulary. In Fuschl, where it would take anyone not more than 10 minutes to explore the entire village walking, I have no option. Well, I can’t drive in Europe. Yet. So, I walk, everywhere. And, the rain Gods have this uncanny way of sending their blessings my way the minute I step out. So, do I miss the autos. Hell yeah!

Supermarkets. As ridiculous as it may sound, I love simplicity. I hate choice. I would be the one who would always ask for coffee, when I am thrown coffee jargons like decaf, skim milk, brown sugar, blah blah. Same with grocery stores or supermarkets. Between the unbelievable choice in the Tescos and Sainsbury’s of London (a 100 different types of cheese, cereal, yoghurt, sauces and so on) to the unfamiliarty of German packaging, if I manage to find a supermarket open after 6 pm in Austria, I know one thing. I miss Prabhat Provision Stores and the free home delivery of anything under the sun. I miss the lady in Pali vegetable market who would happily discuss her life over 200 gms of Paneer.

Language. You would be surprised. In London, they speak English right. You bet they do. How come I still don’t get it when they say it the first time? Indian accent. British accent. Howjsay it? Whatchamacallit? And, as for Austria, forget it. I can say Servus, which means Hello and Byebye. I can say Malzeit. That’s what you say before you eat. Kind of like Bon Appetit. I can say Bitte, which means please. That’s my language status. Pathetic. Between trying to understand the British and learning beginner’s German, I honestly feel like swearing in Hindi. And, thats what I really miss.

Timepass. As it is such a common word back home, I felt that this would be the best way to describe it. The one thing about Mumbai was knowing exactly what was going on everywhere, what are the places to hang out, eat, drink and so on. It had taken me almost 8 years to feel like a local. Then, we get to the topic of London. Just the sheer magnitude of things to do and places to go to is mindboggling. I don’t even know where to begin. Someone told me, check out Beer in the evening for pubs,  Last Minute Theatre Tickets for Broadway… then, I started looking up stuff on the internet and found the Timeout Top 50 sites in London. Its a maze. Then, there is Austria, to be specific Fuschl. One lake. Few hotels. Very few restaurants. Hardly any markets. One gym. Lot of paths to walk around. Yes, that’s all I can do. Walk. Walk. Walk. If the weather favours me that is. Right now, I am an armchair traveler, virtually getting to know my cities even before I get the courage to step out. Baaaaaah! What I would do for one beer at Totos.

Food. Where do I even begin? From the comfort kitchen of Ashaji where the rotis and sabji was warm and ready to the 101 restaurants that were always open, I’m eating Snickers bars from vending machines in Fuschl. Life ends here when it gets dark. If I actually get out of office in time to head to the restaurant, I need to think of all the German menus and order what sounds easy to pronounce.  London is not such a problem. Tesco Ready to eat has become Roys best friend. I make omlette and stir fry vegetables in less than 10 minutes. We have discovered the best cheap wines, not that we know good wine from bad wine. Either way, till I find some stability in my eating pattern, it just feels like I’m one one long gastronomical adventure not doing any justice to my waistsize.

Capoeira. The less said, the better. Capoeira in India was life. Between the hundreds of schools in London and the only gym in Fuschl which offers Yoga and Pilates, Ive become bloody lazy. I need Baba (my capoeira teacher in India) to kick my butt once and get me started here.

People. And, finally, it just boils down to one thing. Friends. Family. There isn’t even a comparison point with London and Austria. Mumbai is Mumbai. And, I miss all the blokes who made life so much fun.

Having said that, I’m leaving you with a snapshot of life in Austria so far. A random collection of photos to show you what my life looks like now. I have to say I love it.

My temporary home in Austria – Hotel Mohrenwirt

Apfelstrudel – the only thing I’ve learnt how to pronounce with no issue.

The walk to office … the beautiful lake….

The office…. I am not kidding. It is not a resort.

Signing off in Austrian style – Servus !

Category: Asia, Austria, England, Europe, Food & Drinks, Fuschl, India, London, Mumbai, New Language / Tags: , , , , , , ,

Around the world in many Cups

February 13, 2011 / admin / 10 comments

People are clearly coffee people or tea people. Just like you find Dog people or Cat people. Just last week, a good friend of mine made a remark about how I had changed in 2 years. Apparently, when he met me 2 years ago, I would drink nothing but black coffee. Agree. About a year ago, I was overworked and I would drink nothing but Red Bull. Partly agree. Recently, he mentioned that my preference has changed to tea. Disagree. All this hype about Coffee, Tea and Red Bull, I decided to think about my life, my travels and really figure out who I am. So, here are plenty of coffee moments, some tea moments and many life lessons.

Nothing inspires me to write more than coffee – Coffee has been the savior. When I blog. When I write in my travel diary. More than anything, when I had to write innumerable mails at work. When I had to especially frame politically correct emails. When I had to apply for a job. When I had to write my resignation. You get the drift. (Infact, right now, that’s what I’m drinking)

Starbucks should not even be your last resort – If you are anywhere near North America, they sell you brown liquid in the name of Starbucks Coffee. I detest Starbucks. I avoid it all costs. Whoever came up with Tall, Grande and whatever? I know Americans like everything ‘supersize’ but it is ridiculous making anyone drink that amount of bad coffee. (I know my sister is probably going to kill me for this, but to save humanity from bad coffee, I had to write this). If they worry so much about the coffee farmers and so on and so forth (as it reads in their promotional material in store), they would stop spending so much money on real estate and give it back to society.

The best coffee can be brewed with socks – Honest to God. In Brazil, they have this coffee maker called a Cuador, which is nothing but a sock like cloth attached to a metal ring and handle. You put the coffee powder in this and Voila, you have a hot cup of awesome coffee. This makes a fabulous travel companion. All you need to do is buy the local coffee from a supermarket and boil water and you can make your own coffee, about 10 times cheaper than drinking coffee outside. If you do not get a cuador, fresh clean ankle socks works.

Meet the people behind the scenes and hear the coffee stories – Whether it is in the Guatemalan coffee farms or the Bali coffee estates, you’ll find coffee farmers to be warm and loving and ready to make the 100th cup of the day just to share with you. I remember sitting and chatting with this lady who was roasting the ‘Luwak’ beans in Bali and telling me the history of coffee. Known as Kopi Luwak, it is among the most expensive coffee in the world. The process of making this coffee will disgust you – they make the little Asian Palm Civet’s eat the berries and excrete the same. Then, the beans having gone through the intestines and out, are separated, cleaned and roasted and so on and so forth, till the most amazing coffee is made.

Sometimes, the only thing that can get you through bad coffee is good company – I love black coffee. Hanging around a bus station in Brazil with a friend, I was deeply disappointed to find only coffee chains with milky coffee and not the usual Cafezinho (small black coffee). Remember cribbing a lot. Then, the adaptable calm friend of mine picked up the coffee and literally thrust it on my face. One coffee slap was good to get me slurping out of the cup. And surprisingly, I enjoyed it as she cracked jokes about bus stations, travel, losing weight and all that. So, it is true. Bad Coffee + Good Company = Great memories.

The one thing on top of my sightseeing list in every city is the oldest café – Whether it is Café Sperl in Vienna or Café Tortoni in Buenos Aires, it was top priority for me to visit these cafes. All the museums and palaces of the world came next. Old world charm, black and white photographs, the history adds to the nostalgia.  Imagine sitting in the room where the King of Spain sipped coffee. I’ve landed up spending a bomb across such cafes but you never think money when you think coffee. These are far stronger memories than seeing a hundred paintings in a museum and not remembering one.

When in trouble, find an Illy - For those who take their black coffee seriously, visiting a new country and not finding the perfect blend can be worrisome. I’ve had terrible terrible coffee in Malaysia, North India and Egypt. A wise woman I met in Mexico told me that the easiest way to find good coffee in a country is to find the Italian Embassy or Italian Cultural Centre and hope they have a cafeteria. Illy rocks. (Now, I can’t help but remember the day my Italian neighbour in Chennai taught me how to make an Italian espresso – Read more here)

Never make the mistake of ordering coffee in Tea land – Was in Egypt last year and craving for coffee one day. Made the terrible mistake of ordering a coffee in the old markets of Cairo. With tons of Elachi and a terrible fragrance, one sip made me cry out Allah. I had the impression it would be close to Turkish coffee or Arabic coffee, dark and strong. Had no idea it came with spices. Prompty, I switched to Tea. It is not about the drink at all. It is about lounging around in a Sheesha place with a glass of tea for hours.

When you in the wilderness, coffee or tea, have it hot – After a long day bushwhacking or trekking or hiking or whatever you do in the wild, the only thing I yearn for is a hot cup of whatever. (This is obviously second to a cold beer, but I generally don’t carry a mini fridge when I go hiking). So, for a change, its not about coffee or not about tea but about hot water. As the kettle gently sways over the camp fire, you have this warm feeling within you that doesn’t go away. (Tried and tested in many places around the world – Special moment was in Swansea in Wales and Smoky Mountains in the USA).

While coffee goes with backpacking, tea goes with luxury – Unless you are backpacking in the Middle East or roughing it out in a guesthouse in Varanasi, I would suggest the best companion to backpacking is coffee. Anyway, coming back to tea, why tea and luxury? Recently, I was invited to a Champagne Afternoon Tea at the Dorchester hotel in London. No, I’m not kidding. With scones and jam, champagne and perfect little sandwiches, they served a whole bunch of us tea in fine china. I was so worried I was going to knock down something or break something. It was like being in the Titanic, with all the cutlery. Rated as one of the best Tea experiences in all of Britain, this was something way out of my league. (Ok.. someone else was paying.. Haha) Anyway, I’m not bad at role playing. I promptly held the cup like most of them do, with the little pinkie finger sticking out, pursed my lips and slurped away. And, I felt like the perfect lady when the waiter actually asked me, ‘Would you like some more teaaaaa?’. And, that is the London experience I worry about.

Saving the best for last, nothing beats South Indian Filter coffee – Yes, I’m that South Indian girl who grew up drinking filter coffee from a tumbler. So, now you know why the obsession to find coffee everywhere I go. This was just a few moments before my wedding (early in the morning), drinking a strong cup of filter coffee, freshly brewed at home. (My aunt was hyperventilating that I would spill the coffee on my Sari, but I managed). I absolutely needed to clear my head before taking that big step towards marriage. Like I said, nothing beats South Indian Filter coffee.

So, brought up in coffee land (South India) and obsessed with coffee land (Brazil), moving to tea land (Britain) is a bit of a worry. Especially after I read this quote. “Coffee in England always tastes like a chemistry experiment.” – Agatha Christie

And, such is life. No fear. What lays ahead is a path of discovery. I cannot wait to begin my coffee crawl of London and add to these stories here.

Category: Africa, Argentina, Asia, Brazil, Egypt, England, Europe, Food & Drinks, Guatemala, Indonesia, Italy, London, North America, South America, Travel Tips, USA / Tags: , , , , ,

Guatever I fondly remember

December 31, 2010 / admin / 4 comments

It’s about 2 weeks since we returned from the lovely holiday in Guatemala and Mexico and I am pleased that the number of reminders I have received from my friends to update my blog has been more than SMS New Year wishes. That is some record. So, here I am trying to remember guatever I can. Actually, with Guatemala, I have to admit that is not very difficult.

From the terribly cold streets of New York, we landed in Guatemala City on the 22nd of November and the weather was hardly the point of discussion. Just the fact that we could remove our thermals made everything seem like sunshine to me.  Immigration has never been easier, considering this was the first country we were stepping into, which did not require Indian’s to carry a visa. Infact, when we tried to talk to the immigration officer about this, he assumed we were Diplomats. (Come on… I’m wearing my dirty red sweatshirt and Roy is carrying a backpack that looks like it has been beaten to death and still they think we are Diplomats in Guatemala. I love it already).

Whizzing through immigration, we landed up in the backseat of our first Collectivo ride. Collectivos are white mini vans (kind of the size of those  Tata ambulance vans) that ply you from city to city, intra city et all. You will find them all over Guatemala and Mexico. We heard that Guatemala city has nothing much to offer the traveler, unless you want to see armed guard outside any building. We drove straight to Antigua.

Antigua is a travelers delight. Take some of the oldest looking colonial ruins, put them together amidst 3 volcanoes and clear blue skies, the European charm of Cobble stone streets, the indigenous touch with the people who sell colourful woven garments, hot local food served straight from earthenware in quaint restaurants and the strongest damn coffee you will get, that is Antigua for you.

Walking around the little town and riding the Chicken buses in and around Antigua, within the first 2 days of my holiday, I felt as though I had experienced what most travelers would get to see in a few weeks.  Currently faced with this extremely difficult task of cherry picking my favourite pictures of Antigua, I’m reliving those 3 days. I hope this photographic journey below takes you on a virtual trip.

(Tip: The first thing to do is to pick up an Antigua city map from any hotel reception or travel agent. It’s a simple grid structure and you criss cross till you have covered everything).

Unesco World Heritage Antigua with the natural setting of Volcano Agua in the background.

The oldest Cathedral in Antigua. The construction of this cathedral began in 1545 and it was demolished around 1668. They rebuilt it around 1680 and it was demolished again by an earthquake in 1773. Walk through the ruins and you really feel transported back in time.

Looking at the blue skies through the arches is mesmerising.

Apart from ruins, you have beautiful churches like the one below – Iglesia la merced.

Just across this church is Antigua’s very own Dhobi Ghat. This little public pond is where a lot of people do the laundry.

The Arch of Santa Catalina is one of the most famous and certainly one of the most photographed colonial monuments in Antigua. This used to be the entrance to the Santa Catalina monastery which was destroyed in the Earthquake as well.

If you are not visiting the ruins or walking through historic arches, what every little street offers you is colourful picture perfect houses or quaint flower pots. A photographer’s delight.

All the walking makes you hungry – stop by a place that serves you Comidas Tipicas – local food. We went to this place called La Cuevitas de la Urquizu, recommended by the receptionist at the hotel we were staying at. You get to pick 1 main gravy and 2 salads and they give you rice and tortillas to go with it. Let me not forget the pickles. We ordered a chicken and a pork dish just for the variety and left the restaurant 2 hours later, a few pounds heavier.

Do not miss a visit to the bus station in Antigua just to check out the queue of colourful buses. Old American school buses painted and polished, you do not want to miss a ride. Just buy a ticket to the nearest Pueblo and hop on.  We bought tickets to Ciudad Del Viejo. The seats on the side can only take 2 people each but 3 people squeeze in with their butts literally sticking out in the aisle area. You have to squeeze in and find a spot amidst all the healthy Guatemalans :) There is free entertainment depending on the driver you get. One way, we had a driver who was into Reggaeton and the other guy was into sad love songs. Either way, this is an experience to remember.

Do not forget to visit the Artisan’s market, not too far from the bus station. You may find the main Artisan market a little touristy. But, there are many other less popular markets in and around the city. Try on a Huipil – that’s a traditional Guatemalan dress. Just take in the colours. If you want to buy something, I would recommend the beautiful cloth belt called as Faja’s and the Cafe de Guatemala gunny bag.

Not being far away from the coffee belt of Guatemala, I would recommend a visit to one of the coffee farms nearby. Azotea is a lovely coffee farm, that houses a couple of museums on coffee production, ancient Guatemalan instruments and textiles. A 3 hour trip (free pickup and drop from the Parque Central) is well worth it. I was delighted to see that I have been to 6 out of the top 17 coffee producing destinations in the world. (That makes is very easy to plan the next coupe of trips).

And.. it is my dream to own every type of coffee device. Currently, I have a poor collection – Italian espresso maker, French press, American coffee maker (the worst), Brazilian cuador and a South Indian filter.  It’s time to invest.

And, if you fancy just a strong cup of Guatemalan coffee in town, I would recommend this little coffee shop (Y Tu Pina tambien) which serves what is called “Hard on coffee”. The good karma tip box on the counter was one of the cutest things I have seen, a pleasant break from the tip crazy time at New York.

And.. finally, for some interesting night life, I would only recommend heading to the local Pena – Pena del sol latina. Buy yourself a Gallo beer and a plate of Nachos with Guacamole. If you are lucky, you’ll catch the local Guatemalan band. If not, you’ll witness some Cuban musicians. Either way, there is nothing better than sinking into a Latin America with good music and good beer.

On this good food note, I hope to leave you with a taste of Guatemala. The main course is yet to come. Keep checking here for more.

Category: Food & Drinks, Guatemala, North America, Not Just Travel, Travel Tips / Tags: , , , , , ,

My foodie friends from Romania

October 21, 2010 / admin / 6 comments

I’ve been a firm believer of this principle – If you can’t travel, you welcome travelers into your home. That is almost like traveling. That’s why I have been an addict of Couchsurfing. Over the past 5 years, I’ve met amazing people in India and overseas, who have changed the way I approach life. Isn’t it amazing that the virtual world can bring people of similar interests together?

Not very long ago, Costin and Cristina, a lovely Romanian couple wrote to me and asked me if I would like to write for their food blog – RestauranteRomania. With their love for world food, they have been compiling culinary experiences from around the world. Having interacted with them online for sometime, I realised one thing – Foodies are same everywhere in the world. They have a passion to explore, discover and taste the world like no other (no pun intended on taste). So, here is a little interview with my 2 foodie friends from Romania. I eagerly await the day I can take them on a food trip around India.

Q: Give us a little background on why you run a food blog?

Costin: I was 13 years and 11 months old when I first entered a restaurant; then I had a grilled pork steak with chips and a pint of beer. I am 43 years old now. In the mean time (a foodie’s “career” that has lasted 30 years) I have had several wagons of beer and wine, uncountable flocks of pigs, cows, sheep and birds, loads of shoals, alongside with the same quantities of fresh vegetables, cooked or pickled ones, in different restaurants. So I am very much into what happens in a restaurant – good or bad. So, as I only like doing what I know best, I started developing a blog about what happens in the restaurants in my home country, Romania, as well as in restaurants all over the world.

And because, for greater objectivity, I needed a second opinion which I could fully trust, I have chosen to do this blog together with the only person I completely trust without any restraints – my wife Cristina.

Q: What are your favourite travel places and food you have tried there?

I like Romanian food the most and this is why I will present a complete menu consisting of dishes I have had at different restaurants as follows:

a) bean soup with smoked ham in bread crust, with fresh onion and chilies on the side together with a shot of tuica (pronounced “tzouika”, it is Romanian traditional brandy made of plums);

b) grilled trout;

c) veal cooked in cast-iron kettle, with garlic sauce and pickles on the side, or lamb chops with red dry wine;

d) papanasi (pronounced “papanashi”), fried fresh cheese balls, with blackberry jam and fresh cream, or cheese pie with raisins, vanilla and fresh cream.

e) black coffee or tea (no sugar).

Q: Why do you think trying local food when traveling is really important?

Costin: Local food, just like the fish, meat or vegetable markets, tells everything about the culture and history of those places, about the soul of the people and all it has been through – they are genuine things that can never be faked.

Q: What is the one food everyone must try in their life?

Costin: Pizza of all kinds and shapes with loads of hot sauce.

Q: Tell me your favourite food joke.

Costin: At school, Bula’s teacher asks the class to make a phrase with the expression “mother is only one” as homework. The next day the teacher asks Bula’s classmates about the phrases they made with “mother is only one”.
“John, what have you written?”
“Well, when I was ill my mother always stayed with me, mother is only one.”
“Good for you!”
“What about you, George, what have you written?”
“When I didn’t know how to solve a math exercise my mother helped me, mother is only one.”
“Excellent!”
Finally, it was Bula’s turn.
“And you, Bula, what have you written?”
“Well, yesterday when I arrived home, I was very hungry so I asked my mother about something to eat and she told me there were two cutlets in the fridge, I opened the fridge and shouted: MOTHER, (THERE) IS ONLY ONE!!!”

Category: Europe, Food & Drinks, Not Just Travel, Romania, Travel Tips / Tags: , , , ,
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