Herr R and I just had a great time smashing walnuts in the kitchen. Administering a ‘sharp blow with the heel of a heavy knife’ will cure what ails you, if what ails you is a combination of mild frustration with the state of the world and a small case of rainy-day boredom.
If the trends exhibited in my prenatal yoga class are to be believed, the thing to wear as a pregnant woman in Hamburg right now is a snug long-sleeved shirt, a scarf, and a tiny T-shirt that barely covers your boobs and which allows tha belly to figure prominently. I continue to rock my usual workout wear to yoga class, so I’m chanting to the oldies in a jogging skirt and brightly colored, super-wicking, high-performance T-shirts with reflective strips. In a room full of browns, oatmeals, and heathers, I look like a visitor from the future. (The kind of future that’s so bright you have to wear shades. Ha.)
It’s pear season! The pears in the market right now are large, fragrant, and juicy. Delicious, and just dynamite with some good bleu cheese and fresh walnuts.
This week we made refried beans, homemade tortillas, and enchiladas. The beans were great, the tortillas were not, and the 5 kilos of enchiladas are gone already. Yum.
We’re off to the weekly farmer’s market that sets up in the street in front of our building. Here’s hoping that they have black walnuts. I’ve heard those are almost impossible to open…