1. I am me.
2. My MoM and dAd.
3. This adventure.
4. My brother N. who I often don’t understand but who I love all the more for it.
5. My little sister C. who while she’s five years younger than I am no longer seems like my baby sister.
6. Work that is meaningful.
7. Coffee.
8. Extended family.
9. The Golden Notebook by Doris Lessing.
10. Laughter. 
11. That I decided to learn German in high school and continued to study in college.
12. Trains and planes and automobiles.
13. My English teachers. Both in high school and in college.
14. My partner in crime and fellow Fulbrighter R. R.
15. Walla Walla, Washington. It’s the town so nice they named it twice.
16. Oatmeal.
17. My various roommates at 1324.
18. The Fulbright.
19. The New York Times (and the column Modern Love).
20. Skype.
21. Being able to dance and loving it. Even though I think I am questionably good at it.
22. Living in Bulgaria.
23. Wittenberg University.
24. Martin Luther, the 95 Thesis and the Reformation.
25. Building birdhouses.
26. Simone de Beauvior.
27. Love in all of its iterations.
28. Learning how to drive a combine.
29. Being about to joke around.
30. Red lipstick.
31. Homemade. Anything.
32. Having the lucky of time, money and heart to be able to travel.
33. Mixed tapes/cds/playlists.
34. Hot showers.
35. Wearing sunglasses on a bright winter day.
36. My birthday buddy B.
37. French fries with serine cheese.
38. The Obamas.
39. My first best friend in third grade Maria and all of the other best friends I’ve had in my life whose first names also somehow started with the letter M (Maya, Meghan and Megan, Meredith, Marissa, Melissa, Maryam)
40. My heart and the fact that it has the capacity to grow and expand in ways I never imagined.
41. Everyone who has taught me Bulgarian.
42. Anyone who has put up with me using really atrocious Bulgarian.
43. Yoga.
44. A Portrait of the Artist, James Joyce.
45. The color blue in all shades and tones.
46. Georgetown University.
47. Dancing in my old kitchen with my friend and roommate M. late on a Friday night.
48. Espresso and the Americano.
49. Pumpkin: roasted on the street, baked into a pie, bread, muffins, pancakes or even oatmeal.  It’s both the color and the flavor.
50. A new notebook and an inky pen.
51. Dresses in the summer and dresses in the winter with jeans, tights or leggings.
52. Winnie the Pooh and his misadventures.
53. The fact that crucial change is often ignited by very plain, unremarkable people who then disappear (NYT on Ms. Claudette Colvin).
54. My strength and health.
55. My aunt who taught me how to sew.
56. And all of my aunts who’ve fostered my creativity and imagination.
57. Banitsa.
58. Large cups of coffee.
59. The experience of volunteering for a year in Washington DC.
60. A Room of One’s Own and Virgina Woolf.
61. Madeline one of my first inspirations.
62. Law & Order: SVU. It’s the best mindless tv ever.
63. The idea of an odyssey.
64. Two of my very best Bulgarian friends J and G.
65. History.
66. Sweatshirts with hoods.
67. The sounds of rain falling on a roof in the middle of the night.
68. My breath.
69. Book stores.  Used, new. It doesn’t matter.
70. Sunshine.
71. Mittens.
72. Typewriters and rotary telephones. Cellphones and computers.
73. My students.
74. Well lit cities at night and how beautiful they are in a yellow glow.
75. Flowers.
76. The book: They Say/I Say: Moves that matter in academic writing.
77. Washington State and evergreen trees.
78. Art galleries.
79. Hard work.
80. Being able to play–even though I am no longer a child.
81. Forgiveness.
82. The first sentences of a new book.
83. Wool socks on cold evenings.
84. Iambic pentameter.
85. Water: bottles, oceans, sprinklers, rivers, rain drops and muddy puddles.
86. Fireworks on the 4th of July.
87. Potlucks with friends.
88. Being able to dream without limit.
89. Writing.
90. The fact that I can’t do everything but that I can do a few things well.
91. Music. Songs. Radios. Concerts. Itunes.
92. The first snow.
93. And the first sign of spring.
94. Google: gmail, maps, reader, calendar, igoogle.
95. The rush of the new.
96. Blue birds.
97. Memories and a healthy nostalgia for the past.
98. Learning something new about myself each day.
99. Flexibility.
100. My existence.

Thanksgiving Day dinner in Sofia:  Pumpkin Gnocchi served up with a big spoonful of lyutinitsa and shredded kashkaval cheese.  I make the gnocchi all by myself which is probably why they look um, like a five-year old’s craft project.  Anyhow, they taste great and look so-so.

Homemade Pumpkin Gnocchi

The one thing was that I spent so much time making each one of these little gnocchi I forgot about what I was going to put on them.  One recipe I looked up suggested a browned butter and sage sauce.  But that was too much for me.  So I looked in my fridge and there was the jar of roasted tomato and red pepper sauce (the lyutinitsa) and kashkaval cheese.

I guess that means that I had a Thanksgiving inspired Bulgarian influenced dinner.  And before anyone starts felling bad for me because I am in Bulgaria and I am not with my family, I should remind you that I had a big Thanksgiving dinner last weekend at school.  Oh, and something you don’t know is that I am having some Bulgarian friends over for Thanksgiving tomorrow night as well–so there will be plenty of Thanksgiving in my life.

Bowl of Gnocchi

It’s not like the only way to celebrate Thanksgiving is with a Turkey.  Heck the Obama Thanksgiving meal earlier this week was vegetarian.  (Um and just to add my own commentary: that’s so great.  Way to go Obamas.  Not serving turkey on Thanksgiving is a pretty bold move!) So I am happy to each pumpkin gnocchi and I’m just as American as someone eating a turkey, stuffing and all of the fixing right now.

There may however be a reason that gnocchi never ever broke into the American food scene like lasagna or tacos did–they are difficult to make. The recipe seems pretty straight forward and the ingredients are basis.  But the actual dough seems to me to be far from straight forward.  It’s unlike any kind of dough that I am used to working with.  It was very sticky but all of the recipes I read said that you don’t want to add too much flour or your gnocchi will be tough.  So I worked as best I could with the glue-y sticky dough.  I have to say even though the gnocchi dough was sticky and I probably made the gnocchi bigger than I should have as a result the gnocchi still turned out great.

Okay, okay I think I’ve said enough about my  slightly irreverent Thanksgiving Day gnocchi. Here’s what I really want to say: no matter what you had to eat tonight, I would like to wish you a very happy and healthy Thanksgiving.

My students and I had a big debate about babysitting recently.  The they didn’t get it.  They were rather shocked by the idea that teenagers would look after little children in States. They kept saying things like: why would you trust a teenager with your child? why would a mom do that? teenagers aren’t responsible enough for this. Then they started telling that in Bulgaria grandmothers watch small children.  They are more reliable and trust worthy.  I tried to explain the American mentality behind teenagers babysitting.

I am a long time babysitter.  In the States it’s a pretty common thing but by the time I was in high school I had regular families that I babysat for.  I knew who liked what, which songs to sing, how to trick children into bed, which book would put them to sleep and just how to get someone back to sleep if he or she woke up.  In one case after school from 3-6pm four days a week I went to same family’s house and did my homework until the toddler woke up from his nap (his mom working at her graphic design and adverting job a few rooms away in the office); I’d get him up, hold him, give him a snack in his high-chair and then we’d play until mom came out.

It’s a pretty routine kind of job.  You show up and smile.  You listen to directions–feed them this, put them to bed by x time, they can’t go in here, watch out if you play this game it has little pieces and call this number if you have a problem we’ll be there.  And in a world before cell phones I said okay but also told who ever I was babysitting for: don’t worry my MoM and dAd are home too so if there was a problem I could call them.  Then the parents leave and all hell breaks loose–kids everywhere, begging to do, each and watch things on tv that their parents never let them do and you do your best to manage the chaos. It’s for this reason that babysitting isn’t for everyone but I like kids and for the most part they like me.  I also liked getting paid to watch little kids.  At between $3 and maybe $5 an hour it didn’t add up fast but three or four hours later I’d have between $9 and$20 and that’s pretty good when your expenses are more or less limited to movies, cds, make-up, sweeter-than-sweet-coffee at the local hang out and the clothes your parents wont buy you.

So teenagers babysit in the States because they are young and energetic.  We play games, chase children and have fun doing.  Parents talk to parents and girls in the neighborhood are recommended to babysit. It starts out small and then may build to something bigger.  Teenagers are also cheep labor.  We don’t demand very much money because we don’t really know that we can and for most of us some money is better than nothing.  It’s not as if our expenses are very high–so we take what we get and are generally happy with this.

The other piece I think is that in America’s history families were bigger and lots of teenagers were looking after their siblings.  Then when families expanded Westward generational family ties changed and the role of older people in society changed as well.  Their value changed.  Youth, energy and vitality were valued over experience, age and wisdom.  Then with the rise of cities the family unit changed again.  A dependence on neighbors increased and I understand that babysitting as we knew developed seriously during the Great Depression as more women began to enter the workforce.

But none of this convinced my students.  They couldn’t get over the idea that somehow teenage girls are responsible enough to watch after someone else’s children.  I mentioned to the group of four students I was talking to that if I had children, I would trust them to babysit children.  Their eyes got big.  I tried to further my case. I told them that they were well spoken, that they turned in their work on time, that they got to school and class on time and that based on their appearances they seemed to do a good job looking after themselves. And that for these reasons I would be happy to trust my children to their care for a couple of hours.  Didn’t fly.  They remained completely unconvinced.

In fact, they stood firm in their belief that grandmothers were the best people to care for babies and children.  It’s not often that I come to an impase with my students but when it came to babysitting there was no reaching them.  I didn’t expect them to pick up babysitting right then and there–it’s simply not part of the culture in Bulgaria but usually these studnets are able to arrive a place of understanding.  In this case, it was no go.  And, they even got me thinking–why did anyone trust me to babysit their children when I was 15, 16 and 17 years old?

I found a great new bakery.  Really, I just stumbled up on it.  Well, stumbled might not be the right word because it’s at the corner of Rakovski and Neofit Rilski. Anyhow, the name is Sofi: French Bakery and it’s brand new.  Yep, they’ve been open for no more than a week.

Sofi Bakery Croissant

After dinner with friends, we stopped in and I bought a pastry.  Well two but I didn’t really want to share this with you until I realized that I had to for the rest of my post to make sense. Oh, so here’s the thing: I ate one right away.  It was very tasty.  For sure I’d recommend the current roll which is the one pastry I’ve eaten thus far from the shop.  When I took my coat off at home, I was covered with pastry flakes–yep they are that good.  I ate it and flakes all over myself.  I don’t regret it at all.

The flaky pastries alone are well worth the trip to this shop.  However it looks like they have a great selection of what look like great loaves of bread and a good selection of French pastries.

More than any of this the shop has a lovely store front with big glass windows, well lit display cases and a friendly staff.  As you may know, a friendly staff anywhere in Sofia makes my a loyal customer. The staff tonight were great. They were closing up and wanted to go home but let us look at everything. They heard us speaking in English and started talking to us in English. Wowsa, who does this?! Hardly anyone in retail does this in Sofia.  I am not saying that they should or that they have to–far from it. I actually like getting to use my Bulgarian but in this case they were friendly and interested enough to engage us right away.  Also, if you’re buying breakfast pastries at 8pm at night they’re half off–I guess that requires that there are pastries left to sell at the end of the night.

The thing is based on how delicious my first pastry was and how good my croissant looks, I would be surprized if in a couple of weeks the shop has any pastries left at the end of the day. This plus their excellent customer service and relatively reasonable prices (from less than 2 leva to 3 leva for fancier pastries) suggests to me that this shop is off to a good start.  Fingers-crossed at least.

As American as Apple Pie

We had a super Thanksgiving dinner at the American College yesterday: 20 plus turkeys, 17 or 18 pumpkin and apple pies, 100s of dinner rolls, nine trays of stuffing, trays of carrot casserole, sweet potato souffle, roasted rosemary potatoes, two different green bean casseroles, gravy and a giant, giant pot of rich-buttery mashed potatoes.

A few of our many Turkeys

Even as I write this list it sounds pretty crazy, a little overwhelming and seems to verge on the disgusting. Sure we had about 150 people to serve but any way you look at this is a lot of food.  I don’t even want to think about how much butter went into these dishes.

One of our many, many pumpkin pies

I also don’t really want to think about how much time went into this event either.  I started cooking stuffing on Friday at about 4:30pm and cooked until 11:30 that night.  Then I got up the next morning and was back at the college by 11am.  I’d finished my stuffing the night before so on Saturday I helped make pumpkin pie and apple pie.  I made two very, very large trays of whipped cream, I sliced apples, I washed dishes and then spent an hour reheating my stuffing.

Rolls Rising

At 4pm the Bulgarians started showing up and by 5:30pm everyone had food.  Lots of it. It was such a nice experience.  Everyone was wishing each other a Happy Thanksgiving (even though at one point after serving probably 75 people I accidently wished someone a Happy New Year…).  To share such an American tradition like Thanksgiving with my Bulgarian colleagues was really heart warming.  It’s a good thing because after you’ve put that many hours into cooking it’s important to feel appreciated.  (Also I think I owe my MoM a big thank-you for all of the years that she’s made a large part of the Thanksgiving dinner by herself.)

We’re celebrating Thanksgiving this weekend at school. I know, I know… it’s a few days early but what’s a girl to do? It’s a serious tradition at ACS–the international teachers make Thanksgiving dinner for the Bulgarian teachers at school. So the cooking starts tomorrow after school and we eat (and drink) on Saturday afternoon.

It’s a group thing which is good because we’re cooking for probably 140 people.  I am signed up to make stuffing.  I volunteered to do this because I’ve got an amazing recipe that I am going to make. But when I signed up, I wasn’t really thinking about the fact that I’d be making stuffing for over 100 people.

Honestly, I’ve never ever cooked for this many people.  I love Thanksgiving but what was I thinking?! Stuffing for 140 people? Luckily there will be moral support from the other international teachers and I am pretty glad that I am not making pumpkin pies for 140 people.  That seems like a ton of work.  Especially because we don’t have cans of pumpkin puree here in Bulgaria. You’ve got to make the puree and then make the pies.

So tomorrow after school, I’ll be found in our school’s basement kitchen cutting bread, roasting it until it toasty and putting together my awesome, awesome stuffing recipe.  I am trying me best to get pumped up about this. I mean the stuffing is really tasty and I am excited about this.  But right now, I am not so excited about making pan upon pan of stuffing tomorrow.  Not pumped up about it.

I am really trying.  I think that Thanksgiving is a special holiday.  And I want to share the sprit of it with my Bulgarian coworkers. It’s just a little bit overwhelming to think about how many people I am going to be cooking for.

On a positive note: once I’ve cooked stuffing for this many people, it will seem easy-peasy any other time I do it.  Actually, I have a hunch after Saturday I’d be happy to make a whole Thanksgiving dinner by myself for friends and family and it won’t feel like any work at all.  Okay, that might be an exaggeration.  But really, how can it not be easy once I’ve made this much stuffing?

So keep your fingers crossed that everything comes together smoothly.  I mean I did have to increase by eight and I tried to “translate” it from cups to some European measurements. On top of this, I also have to hope that the fresh spices I asked for are in the market and available.

Here’s my recipe. It’s easy as 1, 2, 3 (but maybe also 4, 5, 6, 7….).

Vegetarian Stuffing for 15 people:

• 1/2 loaf cubed whole wheat bread
• 1 loaf cubed white bread
• 2 large chopped onions
• 2 cloves of garlic
• 1.5 cups chopped celery
• 5 Teaspoons fresh sage
• 1 Tablespoon fresh rosemary
• 1 Teaspoon Fresh thyme
• 2 Golden Delicious Apples cored, peeled, chopped
• 1.5 cups dried fruit (golden raisins, apricots, cherries)
• 2/3 cups minced fresh parsley
• 3 cups vegetable stock (Note: this varies based on your bread. You might need more.)
• 1/2 cup melted butter

How to: cut everything in to pieces. Toast the bread cubes. You can make these by cutting them or I’d recommending ripping the bread into pieces. It’s looks more rustic this way. This will take 20 minutes or so. Toss the pieces from time to time so that they toast evenly. Cook with a little butter the garlic and onion until soft. Chop up all of the herbs into little pieces. Then in a very large pan mix everything but the vegetable stock and melted butter together. Then pour the liquid ingredients over the together everything in the pan. It should be moist–not to wet and not to dry. This is important. If you need more moisture–add more stock.  Cover the pan with aluminum foil and stick the whole thing in the oven. Bake at 350 for 30 minutes covered and then 30 minutes or until hot through for 30 more minutes. The top should get toasty and golden.

Um did I mention, this recipe is delicious?!

Don’t worry,  there will be an update on the actual cooking and the event.

Today is my 28th and a half birthday.

I am generally not the kind of person who counts halves.  Sure when I was little it was really important for me to be 5 & 1/2 or 6 & 1/2 years old but these days time passes so quickly I don’t see the point.  I mean it’s only six months. But at some point this week I realized that my half birthday was coming up.

It’s been pretty uneventful.  And frankly, that’s okay with me. I’ve had a busy week.

I was struck by the fact that to be 28 & 1/2 means that you’re 28 years old.  As funny as it may sound, I don’t think I really got that I was 28 until today. And when I finally got it, I realized that I’ve only got six months left until I am 29 (how’d that happen!?).  Then at one point, I wasn’t even sure that I had done the math correctly.  What if I was only 27 & 1/2? Also, how is it possible that I am not even sure of my age?

Well, I did the math in my head and don’t worry: I was right the first time.

So that’s that for today.

Walking home from school this afternoon, I found myself thinking about pizza.  I was dreaming of my old-roommate Nick’s mashed potato pizza.  Then I started thinking about all of the different pizza I’ve eaten in my day. I’ve eaten a lot of pizza–pizza for dinner, cold the next morning, or late night slices in Adams Morgan.  In the past, I even drove from my neighborhood in Washington DC to Northern VA to buy pizza (for the record, it’s a drive but not really as far as it may sound).

The as I passed Pizza Ugo I thought about what a cruel and punishing thing it is to lust for a pizza that is impossibly unattainable.  And so instead of obsessing about past pizza I cannot have I started wondering: where is the best pizza in Sofia? I mean Ugo pizza is good but I am not sure it’s the best.  One problem I have is that the many of the pizzas have surprise ingredients–things that I think I should like on pizza but which I still haven’t gotten totally used to.  It’s the slices of hot dog, corn and pickles that trip me up.

Of course not every pizza has these ingredients and if you don’t order when your not paying attention usually you can get a decent pizza there.  But I am not interested in just a decent pizza.  I’m looking for the kind of pizza you’d drive across town for.  I am looking for the kind of pizza that you daydream about and then find friends to go there after work.

I haven’t had this kind of pizza in Sofia yet.  I’ve eaten at Don Domat, Pizza Victoria and I think it would have been nearly impossible to make a year in Sofia without eating at Ugo.  But none of it has been wow.  So it makes me wonder where’s the best pizza in town?

Koprivstitsa House in Red

I went to Koprivstitsa a few weeks ago with friends from school. This is the town where the Bulgarian April Uprising of 1876 started and it’s well known for its classic architecture of the Bulgarian National Revival.

Koprivstitsa is like a right rite of passage.  All Bulgarians tell you that you must go (and you must) and then they want to know what you think of their town.  The only proper answer is that you loved it (and you will).

I think you’re obligated to go to Koprivstitsa if you come to Bulgaria for more than 10 days.  In fact, I think they ask you at the border when you’re exiting the country if you’ve been to visit and if you haven’t they don’t let you leave.  That’s really how great this town is.

Cozy little town

Going to Koprivstitsa for a weekend was a wonderful time. The weather was warm enough for a person (me) to enjoy walking about in a jacket in the crisp and cool day.  It was really the perfect weather for wandering around.  This is important because it’s clear that Koprivstitsa is meant to be wondered around and through at a leisurely pace.

A Bright Blue House

A house near our rented house

This is also a great town in which to stock up on preserves. I bought my fair share of jam and honey.  The jam here is some of the best (I’ve said before and I’ll say it again: the jam from Koprivstitsa tastes like sunshine.  I am not kidding. This stuff is great.)  The honey is good as well.

If it’s not clear by now I’ll be more direct: I love the town. And I think that everyone should visit it. I’ve been three times now.  Normally, I wouldn’t be very keen on going more than once or maybe twice to the same town but this place is lovely.  In my mind, it’s not very often that a place is nice in summer, fall and winter but I think that Koprivstitsa is one of those towns.

Streets of Koprivstitsa

And frankly, I think that after you learn how to say the name of this town you have to go a couple of times to as they say: get your money’s worth.  Hey, it’s not like Koprivstitsa is a name that just rolls of the tongue.  It really not that easy to say.  Oh and it looks even harder to say in Bulgarian: Копривстица.  Yeah, try to say that three times fast as a new comer to the Bulgarian language.

White House and Apples

So that’s that. Come to Bulgaria. Visit Koprivstitsa. You wont be disappointed.  I know that this isn’t a touchy-feely post but it’s direct and I don’t think you need much more.

After watching a commercial for the ump-teenth time for time Tornado chips, I saw them at the store today and decided to buy them.  I have this problem. I watch a commercial or see something advertised on every billboard around town and if/when I actually see the product in person, I decide I have to try it.  I know that this is what advertising is for but I hate that I have such a hard time resisting it. I am better in the States at resisting.  I am not sure why.

But a snack named after a weather pattern like a tornado–how’s a girl to say no to that? Doesn’t that imply powerful yet scary flavor and crunch? The kind of snack that sneaks up on you, grabs a hold of you and then spins you around and around? I mean this is how Dorthy ended up in Oz…  so I gave it a go.  My review: ho-hum.

Tornado Paprika Chips!

So I bought these chips that are aptly named Tornado because guess what shape they are!? They are like little tornados. I had two choices: paprika or original.  I bought the paprika.  I was looking for some flavor.

The thing is I am not sure what flavor paprika is supposed to taste like but these didn’t taste like much.  I imagined that paprika would taste either peppery and spicy or smokey with a hint of sweet.  In fact they just looked red-ish and tasted like an overgrown more airy handful of corn chex cereal. Whatever flavor paprika is I wasn’t blown over by it (get it?! that’s a tornado joke.).  But this does bring up an interesting point of difference between American and Bulgarian culture.  Paprika is not a flavor that stands alone in the States. Sure we have paprika but you sprinkle it on deviled eggs or you add a dash or two to soups, stews, beans or maybe chicken.

Flavor aside, the packaging is pretty hip–with the name in a spray painted graffiti style and like a CD there’s a parental advisory in the lower left hand corner for explicit taste. It kind of makes you feel young to buy them. But these things don’t really make up for lack luster taste.

Oh and after eating a few I was reminded of the American snack: Bugles.  Hum. Sneaky.  The shape isn’t so different. The corn flavor is about the same and they crunch the same.  Only these Bulgarian snacks (if they are in fact Bulgarian) aren’t made by General Mills.