Monday, February 27, 2012

Car Trouble: Part 1

One week away from giving birth to Kacio (baby #4) we signed the papers that allowed us to drive away in a brand new one of these..
This is our car exactly, right down to the tinted windows and no roof rack. We roll the base model because we are nothing if not un-fancy.  2011 Toyota Sienna.


After a couple jokes from the car dealership guy about me not going into labor in the front seat of my brand new car (because, you know, there are lots of really gross explosions when women go into labor in public and chunks must fly. I don't know what those chunks are but they have to be everywhere and really hard to clean up) I turned the key and drove that sucker right out of the car lot. As I drove my spanking new boat car towards home I had much time to reflect on how we had gotten to this point. The ever dreaded, "I drive a mini-van moment."

Just 3 short years earlier Martin and I had invested in a brand new family car. Little Hejjo was 15 months old and Felix was 3 months shy of being birthed. Our old Volvo, passed down from family, wouldn't go into gear and we needed a new car. This car...

2007 Mazda 5 in all its blue glory.


It comfortably fits 6 adults and easily accommodates 3 car seats with enough room for a double stroller and groceries. If you had asked me then I would have told you that this car was the best car ever designed. There was nothing this seemingly tiny car could not do. IKEA trips with all its various boxes to assemble, loads of luggage for Poland, car seats in and out. Parking in any space available. An amazing little car which was really not so little. And, it was this car that introduced me to this phenomenon...

Image Detail



That's right. The sliding doors. The terrifyingly loathsome sliding doors that in one fell swoop change your status as young, cute, 20 something mother to the suburban, sweat pant wearing, hair never done, mascara caked on (but only one eye because you forgot the other) "soccer mom."

*SHUDDER* ( the shudder heard round the world as indicated by my use of the appropriate punctuation)

Yes, I thought it too. Silently, of course. I would NEVER be one of those people  who would have to eat their words "I'll never drive a mini-van." I was once of those people who said, "I'll never live anywhere but Texas." And we all see where that got me. No, I was going to smile and nod and take whatever came my way, because I'm an adult, and that's what mature, un-spoiled, always-grateful-to-just-have-a-car-in-the-first-place, adults do. ;)

But the Mazda 5 (pictured above) was the answer to the mini-van problem. Yes, it came with sliding doors but that was a small price to pay for the sporty sedan suspension with the handling ability of a compact car. The seating capacity in such a small space and the knowledge that I had put off the dreaded "mini-van" for a few more years was worth it.

Sigh of relief.

Hejjo and Felix were comfortably strapped in. A nice little family of four ready for any adventure. And then, 16 months after Felix was born this happened, or should I say "she" happened ...



Now, I've already stated that the car fit 3 car seats, and it did. But I was starting to get a little panicky. In less than 3 years of buying the thing we already had it filled to capacity if we wanted to be able to take just one car to the grocery store. Stick another person in the car and nothing else would fit. For 13 months the car was a dream. Filled to the brim with babies and earning every bit of its "multi-use vehicle" title. But then, well, Kacio was on his way and everything changed.

We tried with every Geomtric bone in our body to make that darn baby seat fit. We moved all the seats up and back, pushed them as far as they would go without crushing little legs in the back. Euclid would have been proud. But we just couldn't do it. We had to admit it to ourselves. Finally, our little family car had failed at something. It could not hold 4 car seats for 4 children ages 4 and under, and allow a driver to actually sit behind the steering wheel. Few cars could.

We searched for alternatives to mini-vans. So many cars claim to seat up to 8 people. And they do. But it just didn't make sense. Climbing over seats to buckle kids. Compromising space for style. And the price! Way more, or at least the same, for something that wasn't quite working. And then we thought... buy a car in Poland!

Yes, Poland, Europe, the land of cars. Every car you can think of from the very Smart to the Passenger Van. So many styles and seating capacities not even sold in America. We searched and searched. And there were alternatives. Like this one, a serious contender...

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Hyundai H-1 passenger van

Or this one, a possibility, especially if our reproduction rate continues on its current trajectory...

Zdjęcie samochodu
Opel Mini-bus...seats 9. Very futuristic looking. I approve. 

Their one downfall... the expense! So expensive! These cars range anywhere from 35-60k starting price for a new car. Egads! After doing the math, researching the cost of transporting the vehicle by boat, changing the taillights and any other components to make it street legal in Poland, and seeing the cost of a brand new mini-van, The Toyota Sienna won out. It was the biggest car, best quality, for the least amount of money, we could find. And that, in the end, was the deciding factor.

There it is in the garage.. and it can hold all you see before you.  


And for those of you who are thinking to yourselves, "It's Europe, you don't need a car. Take advantage of the public transportation and walking all the time and taking in the sights and sounds," have obviously never tried to get 3-4 children onto a tram before the doors close dressed in your Sunday best, while one of them sits outside on the concrete sidewalk throwing a tantrum which then causes one parent to have to jump off the tram and separate himself from the rest of the family causing him to have to catch  the next tram alone with aforementioned tantrum-y child. Take in that sight and sound a couple times and you will be begging for something with 4 wheels and a roof that you can pull over and then threaten tantrum-y child with walking the rest of the way home so *they* can take in the sights and sounds while you ride around in air-conditioned comfort.

So yes, we will be taking this monstrous ship to Poland, where Martin says we will fit in better than if we had bought a huge black Suburban, but we will still stick out like a sore thumb. Or will we?





Now we just have to get the dang thing *to* Poland. Easier said than done.


P.S. Once you go sliding doors, you can never go back.







Friday, February 17, 2012

Conquering Chrusty



"Chruścikichrusty, and faworki are the plural forms of the words chruścikchrust, and faworek, respectively.
The Polish word "faworki" was the name reserved for colourful ribbons attached to either female or male clothing, especially ribbons given to medieval knights by their ladies. Etymologically the word "faworki" came to Poland from the French word faveur, meaning "grace" or "favour".
The Polish word "chrust" means "dry branches broken off trees" or "brushwood".[3] "Chruścik" is a diminutive of "chrust"."
- Wikipedia


I'm pretty sure that traditional ethnic foods were created, in general, to try to weed out people like me. People trying to sully the waters of the [insert culture here] gene pool.  That's right. "They" are that nefarious. There can be no other explanation for what happened yesterday in my kitchen and continued to plague my psyche the remainder of the evening. (although, to be sure, a peaceful step up from what has been plaguing my psyche for the last month...have you been reading American news )?!  No, there is no other explanation. 

 And yesterday I thought the food had won. I mixed and kneaded. I beat and pounded. I put my full body weight into it and it just wouldn't take. I ended up with a headache, a sweaty brow and a lot of frustration. 

I was trying to make faworki/chrusty/angel wings, for Tłusty czwartek (fat thursday). Yes, the Poles, and a lot of other cultures, but in this house it's always "the Poles" (or " 'mericans") start celebrating "Fat Tuesday" the week before, on Thursday. Why Americans haven't picked up on this yet I have no idea, seems like somethign we should be all over. Regardless, it was on the calendar in our kitchen, and if it's on the kitchen calendar then it's usually a matter of importance ranking right up there with birthdays, doctor appts. and bulk trash pick-up day. Serious stuff in American suburbia. 

I really wanted to make something special for Martin. He has been working so hard lately. As of last night he hadn't even seen Kacio's face in over two days, he has been leaving so early and getting home so late. We all missed him. And yesterday he was supposed to get home early and join us for dinner. I was going to surprise him with something "Polish" because he especially likes it when I make an effort to make something he ate as a child and remembers fondly. I was inspired by a friend on facebook who posted the recipe and steps. I tried it out.

 It didn't take.

I won't bore you with the whole gruesome ordeal. Let's just say it involved 10 organic egg yolks, about an hour of kneading and rolling, and it all ended up in the garbage disposal. (I know! All those beautiful, 'spensive, eggs!) (oh, yeah, and now my sink is backed up again, another adventure for a later hour).  It was messy, I might have shed a couple frustrated tears. And when Martin got home I had nothing. Nothing. Not even dinner. Big time failure. (he brought bar-b-que...delicious!)


I'm not gonna lie, I was pretty distraught. But I wasn't about to give up. There is absolutely nothing out there that I can't make if I try hard enough. Today, round two. I did some thinking, figured out a couple things that I thought would help, followed the exact same recipe and came out with this...



Woohoo! The kids loved them. It's fried dough covered in powder sugar, who wouldn't love them? (and if it sounds a little like funnel cake, it is, except not as dense and not quite as sweet)

I am so excited to show Martin when he gets home. I hope he likes them!


Recipe:
5 egg yolks
2 cups of flour
2 tblsp sour cream
1 tblsp sugar
1 tblsp lemon juice, vinegar, or alcohol (strong liquor)  
oil for frying


Yesterday, a.k.a. "fail day" I took all of it, threw it into a big bowl, mixed well, and tried my darnedest to get it to work. Just wouldn't do.

Today. Same ingredients. A couple things I did differently. Took the eggs out of the fridge about an hour earlier. This way they weren't so cold. Also, I mixed the wet ingredients plus the sugar well, and then stirred in a 1/2 cup of flour at a time. Made all the difference. 
When making this you have to knead the dough for quite some time to get it soft and malleable. Then you're supposed to beat it with a rolling pin until it "blisters." I can understand conceptually what this means but I have no idea what it looks like in person so I beat the crud out of mine in just a general way, you all know what I mean, right?, and hoped for the best. Set it aside for 30 min. and let it recover from all the beating.


Take it out and start rolling. Gonna take some elbow grease. You will sweat. And then once it's super thin I cut it into strips and then I rolled it even thinner  (I made my strips about 5 inches long and about 2 inches wide). cut a slit down the center of each strip, turn one end inside out (tuck it into the center and pull it through) and there you have it.


 Pour the oil into the pan, Let it heat up nice and good for frying. Toss them in, a few seconds per side, flip them, another couple seconds, take them out and let 'em dry. Later, sprinkle with sugar (I used powdered sugar). If you roll it out thin enough it makes quite a large batch. Thinking about making these again for Mardi Gras at the kids school on Tuesday!

If anyone out there makes these I would love to know how they turned out!

P.S. "Thank you" to to my dad who let me borrow his camera since we officially do not have one anymore.


Saturday, February 4, 2012

Eye candy.

And *this* is where I'm moving. 


"Foxy boxing" and Opera.

Conversation about building decisions in Poland...

Me: I like the new opera house in Krakow, I know  lot of people don't like it for some reason. But I love the modern red building juxtaposed with the old brick buildings. 





Martin: Yeah, but right next door, it's administrative building is what people have a problem with. It looks like a dilapidated "housing project." It just looks cheap.

Me: I guess I never noticed that before. I was too busy looking at the beautiful red Opera House.

Martin: Yeah, and name one, just one, area for people to park, that attend the Opera?

Me: Oh yeah, I guess I haven't noticed any place to park. That could be a problem.

Martin: Well, most people take the bus to the Opera in Poland anyway, so it's not that big a deal.

Me: They do?!

Martin: No! Of course they don't I was being sarcastic.

Me: I guess they could take cabs?

Martin: Yeah, they'd have to. There's no place to park! 

Me: Well, that could be good, right? Don't people drink at the Opera?

Martin: No, you're thinking of  "Foxy Boxing."*




* quoted from the Simpsons and a result of my husband's incredibly quick wit **
** he made me say that