DINNER DISASTER

Today was a gorgeous, sunny day.  I wandered out to Nørreport and spent the day walking through the city, getting lost and finding my way again.  After getting my fill of sunshine and Danish street names, I made my way over to Ricco’s Kaffebar where to meet Henry.  Both of us were fueled with the desire to eat real tacos and we made a game plan over our coffee and we went off to the Turkish market to gather supplies.

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I had asked Gitte and Johannes when would be a good time to cook because I was planning on making an “involved dinner” and they, some time later responded that 7 would be good.

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There are a few things I am really homesick for: being able to call my mom anytime I want and grocery stores.  I won’t go into too much detail in an attempt to not make my mom freak out, but the Turkish market left me not feeling great about the state of our dinner.  Heading back home I started chopping things for pico and tried to marinate the chicken.  Henry joined after a bit with some incredibly suspect cheese that smelled (and tasted) like some old dirty feet and then tried to make the tortillas with what we realized was actually cornmeal and not corn flour (a frustrating realization as the bag SAID corn FLOUR, but it was a package of lies).

I cried like six times.

Poor Henry, in an attempt to be empathetic about my homesickness about grocery stores was telling me about the time he drove through Boise (my hometown) and the only store there was this random little grocery store called WinCo which happens to be the place where my mom and I went all the time before Whole Foods came into town.  I cried again and harder being reminded of all the things back home I missed.

The pico was incredibly spicy (we both choked upon tasting it), the chicken sketched me out, and our tortillas ended up being polenta.  Exhausted, emotionally spent and starving, I ended up sauteing the pico with some eggs and Henry ate a conglomeration of everything we had.

Gitte and Johannes came home and told us “We didn’t answer your message because we did not know what an ‘involved dinner’ was”.

Someone please send me some tacos; I’m dying.

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One comment

  1. I’m pretty sure the grocery store sucks because you can’t call me to help entertain you while you are doing your shopping. Again, just saying!

    Like

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