4

Facing The Coconut

Ever since I read online about a woman who discovered something really gross-looking/tasting in the coconut water she purchased, I have steered clear of  bottled coconut water and instead opted to buy the coconut itself. A pain to open, especially without a machete, but the coconut water is 100 times fresher than the bottled kind and I love scooping up the coconut meat. Here’s what my coconut looked like when I was attempting to open it. I thought it was smiling at me.

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6

International Pretzel Day

Today was International Pretzel Day. I found out when I went to an event that had a reception. I had heard there would be snacks. Snacks, in my mind, refer to a variety of yummy appetizers. The snacks tonight were pretzels. They were larger than my hand, soft, with sprinkled salt. The salt looked like small pieces of hail. There were three bowls of mustard–honey mustard, yellow mustard, and spicy brown mustard. The first pretzel was warm. I love fresh baked pretzels. I put dabs of spicy brown mustard on it. The pretzels looked very pretty hanging from the pretzel rack. They looked like they were doing gymnastics. They specialized in the twist. I’m sure they would have won a gold medal or two. Speaking of two, I had a couple more. They were cool. And salty. Incidentally, my favorite kind of pretzel is the Pennsylvania Dutch Pretzel. Crunchy and delicious. Tonight I ate three soft pretzels in honor of International Pretzel Day (and also because I was hungry).

Happy International Pretzel Day!!

6

A Crumby Tale

Just one week ago, I was walking through my favorite city.  I walked for three hours, not knowing where I was going, but having fun visiting streets and neighborhoods I hadn’t been to in awhile.

I landed exactly where I needed to be: the doorstep of a famous Italian bakery.

The display case enticed me with traditional American cookies, traditional Italian cookies, cupcakes, Napoleans, cannoli, cheesecake, princess cake, and an Italian sponge cake with some kind of cream filling. After much serious contemplation, I chose a cannoli, which tasted as good as those I was raised on and much better than the one I got on sale from my local supermarket.
All too soon it was gone. I hated to leave without trying a pignolia amaretti. It was like eating pure marzipan. I delighted in every bite. Until .. a piece fell to the sidewalk.
I gasped. My precious sweet! I looked at it, tempted to pick it up, but the germ-phobe in me said no. How downright crummy to think of missing out on one more tasty morsel. I nearly lost my cool right then and there.
Then I shrugged.
That’s the way the cookie crumbles.