crooked corner: September 2007

Friday, 14 September 2007

sticky fingers

Well, it finally had to happen. I got pick-pocketed on the train. Or close to being on the train. I was returning home from Wroclaw at six in the morning. They were so good that I don’t even know when or how it happened. It wasn’t in the actual train because I slept on my backpack the whole time so I would have felt somebody fumbling. They must have been watching me when I was purchasing my ticket, fiddling with my wallet and sticking it into the top of my backpack. Then they followed me, down to the platform, waited until there was a crowd entering the train, and whamo – got it out without me even noticing. Crap. But they were good robbers. Because they only removed the cash (some 250 PLN), leaving all my bank cards, my id card, my driver’s licence and even my library card! They then threw the cashless wallet into the bathroom on the train, which was retrieved by some random passenger who then passed it on to the train guard. The train guard then looked all over the train for me, until he found me and gave me a nice friendly talking to about being a silly daffa for putting my wallet into such an obvious stealing place! Sigh.

My seven year love affair with the Polish rail based on complete naïveté, has finally come to an end. I am now a person who has been robbed on a Polish train. It makes me sad, because I really do think the PKP is a wonderful institution in which I have felt safe and comfortable. It doesn’t matter that it is on the verge of collapse, bankruptcy and the average age of an employee is over 40.

The episode however had its bonus moment. I got to use the toilet at the station for free! Also I told a 16 year old off on the tram for not vacating his seat for an old nana. He gave me a ‘look’ with his stupid cool hair and slouchy jeans. But my retaliating look said “don’t fuck with me or you’ll get it. Now move!”. He blushed, got up, and nana sat down. Damn straight.

We’re off to Sicily this evening. Plane leaves half past midnight. I have a new backpack! And I cannot wait to try it out. After lumbering for seven years with my green Crapmandu number that has always been too large for my back, I am ready to fly high with my new purchase! The plan is to climb Mt. Etna. The volcano on Sicily, which has recently been alight. I better go and pack. Michal has just yelled from the kitchen "You-Styna, what you are doing is improper!". Better go and roll a mat. Wojtek, Michal's brother with his big hair will be staying at our place. We needed someone to water the basil.

I won’t be blogging regularly for about two weeks. But you never know…

Friday, 7 September 2007

cooking means war

I have been battling with the pumpkin. And I will continue to write about it until the damn thing disappears from my fridge and my milk can return to its proper shelf. The sucker is:

a. heavy
b. tough
c. awkward to carry
d. stubborn

I finally did manage to mangle it and cooked a pumpkin curry. Despite Wong’s polite advice to email his mother, I decided to take on the challenge solo. The curry was delicious. I had some red curry paste I made from scratch some weeks earlier that I had frozen. Finding fresh galangal and fresh kaffir leaves in Krakow set me into a frenzy of excitement and I whipped up various curry pastes to last us the whole winter. Unfortunately as I finished preparing the dish I realised I had run out of rice. Being a lazy sod at the best of times, I dug out some buckwheat from the back of the cupboard instead, convincing myself it is kind of like rice. It’s not.

Note: buckwheat goes badly with curry. It also makes the poo curry colour look even more pooey. Makes a bad photo for a foodie post on one’s blog.

Today I whipped up some pumpkin soup. Recipe from my uber zuper cook cuz Marta. She adds coconut milk. Yummo. It’s been raining heavily here for the last 6 days or so, so hearty hot meals have been craved my most healthy bodies. Now there is only ¾ of the pumpkin left. Maybe I’ll go and feed the neighbourhood.