it would help if I could speak the language

Moira bought this huge sausage at the grocery store, Bonus, yesterday because it was on sale.

(She´s been eating meat again since she moved here in January.)

Meat cravings + sausage sale = whoopee!

Which was fine with me because I could sauté the garlic with it, adding flavor to the whole soup, before dumping in the tomato stock and starting the real soup-making process. I wouldn´t actually have to eat any of it.

So we´re in the communal kitchen at the international dorm, Gamli Gardur.

It´s browning. People are coming out of their rooms to loiter because it smells so good.

I add the tomato stock and bring it to a boil.

People are tasting.

I´ve got all the rice, spices and produce lined up in the order I want to mix them with the stock, garlic, and sausage. So I can just relax now and drink my gin.

"You can help Mommy best by staying out of my way" etcetera.

Then someone who can read Icelandic looks at the sausage package.

It was horsemeat.

P.S. It was excellent. The soup part, anyway. I wasn´t even tempted to try the meat.

betholindo at 10:26 a.m.

previous | next