Oral Allergy Syndrome

So just about every other day I eat an apple or pear at work and every single time I say:

"I think I am allergic to this"

"My lips feel so weird"

"Do my lips look weird? Because the feel weird?"

"Why do I keep eating these?"

One might suggest that I just stop eating them but how can people live with out eating apples? An apple a day keeps the doctor away and doctors cause me to hyperventilate! Apples are ALWAYS available and ALWAYS the cheapest option! They are so transportable; I can't switch to bananas because they will become crushed in my bag AND they don't sell BANANA GUARDS in Hungary!!

-How could I NOT post a picture of these... insert immature laughter here

*Remember "Highly curved bananas can be straightened ever-so-slightly without harm to fit the Banana Guard shape. The opposite holds true of very straight bananas."

I am not a doctor in any sense of the word, but I am closely related to one and have spent a significant number of hours near various sorts of doctors as they try to fix my old lady body. I know you aren't supposed to google your symptoms because it is guaranteed to cause anxiety because almost every single time you are diagnosed with pancreatic cancer or MS. However after the ongoing apple and pear incidents I broke down and googled it. I think I have Oral Allergy Syndrome. I think the hardest part of this is not laughing at the word oral.

According to my best friend this means I might also be allergic to other things too:

• Alder pollen: almonds, apples, celery, cherries, hazel nuts, peaches, pears, parsley, strawberry, raspberry

OR

• Birch pollen: almonds, apples, apricots, avocados, bananas, carrots, celery, cherries, chicory, coriander, fennel, fig, hazelnuts, kiwifruit, nectarines, parsley, parsnips, peaches, pears, peppers, plums, potatoes, prunes, soy, strawberries, wheat; Potential: walnuts

Basically they just went through the produce section and listed all the awesome fruits and vegetables.

Sometimes I peel my fruit because they say it will help but usually I just deal with it. I am NOT giving up apples for this garbage.

One Year Ago Today...

I was still recovering from jet leg, in awe of graffiti, strangely shaped light switches and, what would later be named by someone, the "shit shelf" style of toilets...

Yuck. That was such a gross thing to say. What an ugly mental image I have shared with you all. I regret it terribly... and yet still choose to post it online.

One of my favorite pastimes this year has been to laugh at is all the things invented in this country... Isn't that mean? Yes, yes it is.

Thanks for the year Budapest, it's been a riot.

Bryndzové Halušky in English: Potato dumplings with bryndza sheep cheese and bacon

My love for Wikipedia knows no limits. It could have translated this Bryndzové Halušk as Cheese Dumplings (like lazy google translator) but it went all out. There is implied toppings in that name, and BACON should never be forgotten.

When I was in Slovakia part of the conference I was attending included making a traditional Slovak dish. I am assuming that this above name is what we made and someone will correct me if I am wrong.

Even if I am wrong you should all know it was delicious. It was like homemade macaroni with cheese only the gross breadcrumb topping is substituted for bacon; it wasn't baked; you use potato pasta instead of macaroni; and it used a very special cheese. It wasn't really like homemade macaroni and cheese at all I guess.

The bacon was a real game changer - it always is.

You can make it too in just Sixteen random steps.

Step one:

Go to HERE:

View Larger Map

Now the tricky part is getting there. From Budapest I suggest taking the train. You will see epic train stations (see album on the right). It will be quite the adventure. I suggest hiring a translator.

Step Two:

Ask around until you find where you can get 1 kilo buckets of this special and delicious cheese.

-Why, yes! That does look like a really big bucket of butter. Don't worry it is cheese. CHEESE!

Step Three:

Find yourself a kitchen with a sign as cute as this, in a tiny eco village.

-This is not at all a must. Rather a suggestion.

Step Four:

Chop bacon. Lots of bacon.

-Fear for your arteries while you do so.

Step Five:

Look skinnier by sucking in.

-This emphasizes your giant Dutch barrel chest.

Thank you Smids, I love the nose you gave me too.

Step Six or Step 4.5, honestly it doesn't matter:

While all this is going on, find some potatoes. I know a root cellar in Eaglesham that probably has 500 pounds of them stored away for winter. But you are already in Slovakia trying to find cheese so you should probably find some Slovak potatoes instead.

Step Seven:

PEEL THEM!

-Peel lots of them. Like two potatoes per person or three... or four... I don't know really. Peel however many potatoes you think you'll eat.

Step Eight:

Food Processor them. Then immersion blender them. I understand that this is a tradtional dish so I bet there is a different step you could take. Perhaps just finely grating them?

I can't imagine that the immersion blender is a Slovak invention. In fact, the immersion blender was a Swiss invention. Imagine that! Thank you again Wikipedia!

-These are not what they look like after they've been blendered. I wasn't paying attention at that point.

Step Nine:

Add flour to the potatoes... Lots... Add salt too. To be honest, during this stage of production, I was more concerned about the bacon, I don't really know how this all worked. Get it to the consistency of like wall paper paste, or dough?

-Pasty

Step Zero:

Boil a huge pot of water. Sorry I forgot that part.

Step Ten:

Put the potato dough through a thing that looks like that.

-If you don't have that maybe use a piece of sheet metal you've poked holes though, or a colander, or Ask Jeeves for a solution (the internet knows everything).

Step Eleven:

Give someone the very important responsibility to slowly fry a million tiny pieces of bacon. DO NOT THROW OUT THE GREASE.

-That, my friend, was only the first half of the bacon we fried.

Step Twelve:

Boil the little noodles until they turn yellow.

Taste them to check their yellowness.

Step Thirteen:

Drain them. REALLY WELL!

This take the utmost concentration and encouragement from others. Precise draining is key.

Step Fourteen:

Add them to the whole kilo of cheese. The cheese will melt. It is a beautiful thing.

-That is only half of the pasta we made so it is a bit cheese heavy there.

Step 15:

*Not to be confused with 15 Step.

Set the table. We aren't animals who eat in front of the TV.

-Unless something is really good on TV. That is the only exception to the rule.

Step Sixteen:

Top it with bacon, bacon grease and for fun another type of smoked cheese.

-MMMMMMmmmmmmm

A Danish Cultural Experience

Danes are well known for their height, sweet pastries, and coalition governments. Danish city streets are lined with shiny, happy people walking around in the middle of the day - as if they don't have jobs. Young couples are pushing state of the art baby carriages (filled with babies) and everyone else is riding a bike. Hipster style has hit Denmark harder than the Montreal Plateau. (I am not interesting enough to make that reference... I regret trying).

It is a beautiful place to visit, and even better place to spend lots and lots of money. In return you get free fish at local festivals and fresh sea air.

Denmark (seen below) is surrounded by water, so it comes as no surprised that they spend a lot of time visiting it. In the fall and winter months they don't shy away from the coast. Rather, tens of thousands (probably) join winter swimming clubs.

-Take that Smoggy Hungary

Coming from Canada, you would think I would be able to relate to such a phenomenon. It is cold in Canada, we have coasts! However, growing up on the prairie, in a town that drains it's outdoor pool mid-September, I had to say I was a bit surprised when asked if I would like to visit the winter swimming club.

So many questions/thoughts jumped to my mind:

What if I throw up in front of people because I get salt water in my mouth?

Is it shark season?

Should I shave my legs or will the hair keep them warmer?

What if I cry because it is so cold?

What if my foot touches a gross weed at the same time a fish brushes my leg and I freak out and step on a really sharp piece of rock and then I run out of the ocean splashing water into my mouth and then puke in from of EVERYONE?!

I thought I was brave enough to attempt to swim in the icy waters and risking public vomiting but, I had forgotten my swim suit. Sigh!

Now, my prairie naiviety led me to believe that this would be an integral part of swimming in the Danish ocean. I could not have been more wrong. I was assured that a bathing suit would not be needed, in fact it would be frowned upon. This was a naked club.

Note: I can barely change in an empty change room at the pool without doing that weird 'towel in the mouth' dance to cover one's parts.

After a day of decision making time I decided that:

a) I don't know any Danes - I won't run into anyone I know;

b) It would be cool to retell this story (I've rendered this point uncool by saying cool, haven't I?);

c) There might be a documentary being filmed about Danish people in their natural habitat at the ocean and I could be a part of;

d) Opportunities like this only come up once in your life.

So there we have it. Naked swimming is an event I have taken part in. The water was too cold for me to get more than 10 cms away from the ladder. I didn't get any water above my neck so puking sea water wasn't an issue. My companions, average age 68-75 seeing as it was mid-morning on a workday, made me feel totally welcome in my new surroundings; chatting to one another as they bathed in the morning sun, leathered bodies lacking any semblence of a tan line...

-The building surrounds the swimming area and holds little saunas with ocean views.

-I was rewarded with hot coffee and breakfast on the beach.

-While wrapped in blankets, enjoying our post swim breakfast a seven year old ran around on the beach... naked.

More importantly though, this was the same day I tried orange marmalade after 24 years of being told it was toxic garbage not to be consumed only to realize that it wasn't half bad... I will stop judging people for having it in their fridge. I guess it too was just another lie told to me by my parents. Similar to the time my Mom told me for 14 years that I HATED the way sweat pants felt and refused to purchase them for me. WHO WEARS SWEAT PANTS ALL THE TIME NOW?!

This marmalade eating rebel - that's who:

One Year of Posts Unposted

Blogging is hard... It is like keeping a journal for a sociology class that is only worth 10 percent of your grade. 10 percent could bump you in the top of the class or keep you in the mediocre middle where you are comfortable... The middle is so nice and cozy.

That metaphor sucked. Wait, I used the word like. That simile was garbage. Now THAT metaphor was awesome.

I started this disaster "remember me people I don't live near anymore" blog over a year ago. A YEAR! Can you believe it? Me neither. There were so many things I wanted to blog about but chose to download and watch television instead. To name a few:

• Hungarian Toilet Paper - it is usually has a floral or sea theme and comes in every colour in the pastel rainbow. It is almost always scented. There is nothing I hate more than scented toilet paper. I wanted to do a whole pictorial exposes, but rarely have a camera with me in those places.
• My old flat was a time bomb of gas powered apparatuses. Everywhere I turned there was a pilot light. I became freakishly obsessed with making sure all the pilot lights were lit. I once spent about 20 minutes trying to take a picture of how the flame would shoot out into the shower when you turned on the hot water (yes the water heater was in the shower), but it was impossible to be so quick/photo savvy.
• I went to a concert in a HUGE concert hall with one entrance/exit that was only accessible by one flight of stairs. I couldn't enjoy the music because I was too terrified of 1. a fire and 2. getting out after the concert.
• My bike "Rosa Parks" and my trip to work with her every morning. She is a heavy, old bike that I always wanted to tell you about internet world. I didn't name her.
• I own a vacuum cleaner that even if I turn out all the lights, unplug everything (including the fridge and washing machine) it is still too powerful for the breaker. Perhaps it is for the better that I can't turn it on. Who knows what that powerful beast would do.

There are so many things, internet I wanted to share with you but didn't. I would like to think this second year will be better, but it won't. I don't like to make promises I can't keep. I committed to a library card for year two - so at least for a couple of weeks I am going to pretend I read more.

In about 20 days I will have been in Hungary for a year - Neat! Here are pictures my cell phone captured:

-The Basilica the first time I saw it.

-A pop bottle christmas tree at Gödör

-The East Side Gallery in Berlin

-Freaky ad that reminded me of my boss.

-Terrifying Ink Shop that thought we were ripping them off, when they clearly were ripping us off.

-Our garden tea party.

-Chess in my neighbourhood. The one guy is playing everyone.

-Wool for felting.

-A view from a cafe.

-A dip I thought twice about before ordering.

-The market in summer... RASPBERRIES.

-Things not to be thrown in the plastic bin: bombs (or unicum bottles), kifli, entire turkeys, tejföl.

-Freak at the Bus stop.

-The Beach in Denmark... in September. More about that another time though.

FYI blogger doesn't even have an underline feature - this is another reason why I don't blog very often. BLOGGGGEERRRR!!!!!!