Monday, May 12, 2014

Cooking Conversion Confusion and Exploring the City

I realized that in my last post I didn't clarify... I DO HAVE A TOILET! My apartment is certainly equipped with a beautiful toilet. I assure you I would be a lot more vocal about having to do my business squatting everyday! The toilet-less bathroom I made reference to was actually located in a public bathroom in a park, not my apartment. I apologize for the miscommunication and appreciate all of the concern! In fact here is a picture of my toilet. 

The latest challenge I encountered took place yesterday. It was truly a battle of wits and I am happy to say I came out the victor! I succeeded in my first stint of baking in France. Now, baking is nothing new to me, I have been happily creating and eating sweets for much of my life. Last night I had the desire to make some stove top rice pudding. Easy enough right? Rice, sugar, milk, vanilla and cinnamon... no problem, or so I thought. Baking is really simple, you follow a recipe and it generally works out well... but what happens when a simple recipe turns into a complex mathematical equation? I'm talking measurement conversions, you know those silly things you learned in 5rd grade and never thought to remember. After googling the conversion rate of 2 1/2 cups to ML we realized our one huge measuring utensil in the house only measures Grams or Litre (Liters). Mike kept spouting off mathmatical nonsense like 584 ML, and grams and ML being roughly equal and the square root of pi to the 3rd power, all while I kept looking at our huge measuring cup and trying to see the number 584 anywhere.

Eventually, we figured out the conversion rates (mostly by guestimating) and enjoyed really tastey rice pudding. Perhaps even better than normal as we had to put so much effort into the process. 

Saturday, I also had the chance to make fabulous French toast, on French bread... in France! So good. Although, we didn't have syrup... something else to add to the list of hard to come by in Europe... right next to peanut butter.

Today we had quite a fun day. Luke and I decided to make the trek to Geneva on our own while Mike was at work. As long as Luke had a snack and we sang "the wheels on the bus" he enjoyed the trip. Not sure about all the other passengers, but we enjoyed ourselves. It was quite a long bus ride so "The wheels on the bus" morphed into some kind of zoo extravaganza "the Monkeys on the bus say ohh ah ah ohh ah ah... the driver on the bus says 'this aint no zoo, ain't no zoo, aint no zoo" (I pictured him with a New York accent ). 

Upon arriving in Geneva (about a 20 minute bus ride with no traffic) we enjoyed un petit dejeuner (breakfast) of a crescent. We ventured out to explore the old city set on the hill... which meant stairs. Now stairs, a diaper bag, a toddler, and a stroller don't quite mix for a mother, but we were on an adventure and determined to make the climb. I unloaded Luke and lugged the stroller up those stairs. Luke didn't mind one bit, stairs are his favorite source of entertainment currently. The old city was well worth the climb. It is so picturesque, and Luke was thrilled when we found a park with swings. 

This city is beautiful and I am relieved to know that I can navigate through with my curious little boy.

My little navigator

One of the treasures the old city holds

Bobby Fisher has nothing on Luke

Luke is all tuckered out after a long day of exploring. 

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