Local Flavor

Today was a big day at the Trolard Pillinski residence.  Anne and Mark's major accomplishment was taking a cab trip to the Metro supermarket to stock up on provisions for the rest of the semester.  While Mark and Anne will only be here for another 3 weeks or so before returning to the U.S. for a three week binge on tasty food, reality television (or any television in English) and showers equipped with shower curtain technology, they still needed to stock up on provisions here in the land of the Bulg.  One sorely needed provision was slippers for Mark.  The Trolard Pillinski apartment has hardwood floors throughout, so walking around in bare feet gets a little old.  Mark's shoe size is fairly unremarkable for an American (10.5 - 11.5 depending on the brand of shoe - handy tip for those of you still looking for gift ideas), but there is basically nothing in that size here.  It appears that generations of communist rule has resulted in the shrinking of the shoe size around here.  However, in a great stroke of luck, Anne and Mark were able to find one pair of slippers at Metro that would fit.  Hurrah!  And, for those of you who are curious, what brand of footwear fit the bill?  Why, "American Basket" of course.

Baller, shot caller

One by-product of a trip to the supermarket is the opportunity to look through the shelves at home and see what is still sitting on them.  Today Anne and Mark noticed that they had not yet opened their jar of Rose Petal Jam.

Ok, why not?

Bulgaria does not have a large number of developed industries, like most western countries.  While they were hanging out with the Warsaw Pact, they didn't really develop any cash crops or core competencies. Whatever they needed, they got from Russia or wherever, rather than making it at home.  It sounds like it was a really rough time.  For example, the paint factories in Russia would only make one color at a time. And they would make it for a year or so.  Then they would ship it out to everyone.   So, if you go to an apartment, you can not tell whether the people who live there have any sense about decorating because they did not choose what color to paint their house, but you can definitely tell what year they painted it, just by what color it is.  Anne and Mark, for example, have determined that their living room was painted in 1978 (orange) and their kitchen in 1982 (pea green).

Anyway.  So there are no big industries, but Bulgaria is a good place for producing a few things.  Well, two things.  Wine and roses.  (I know, it would have been cooler if they made guns instead of wine)  The wine here is ok, but supposedly is getting much better (the climate is good for growing, but they are do not have the expertise - apparently there is an effort to import wine experts from France, Italy, wherever to make the vino mas bueno).  The rose production, on the other hand, is a highly developed industry.  They grow a ton of them and make all kinds of related products, rose perfumes, rose extracts, rose... arees?

And, of course, rose jam.  While visiting Plovdiv, Anne and Mark bought a small jar of rose jam from a guy at a kiosk.  Anne asked the merchant how best to eat the jam.  (Keep in mind, if there was no industry here for 50 years, there certainly was no marketing, so the sales pitches can be a bit... rough)  The guy responds that if you eat a little on a piece of bread - is ok, no problem.  If you eat a lot, then 1 hour, then toilet.  If anybody reading this is in sales, feel free to go ahead and use this technique to increase your sales volumes.  Consider it a gift to you from Bulgaria.     You're welcome.

Despite the man's efforts to sell the product, Anne and Mark bought some anyway.  Today was the day to try it.  First, we got a freshly-baked loaf of bread from the market downstairs (if it's not warm from the bakery, just chalk it up as being stale).

Then we spread the new jam on the bread.  Then, the cat jumped up on the counter and gave it a try.  Anne and Mark are not normally in favor of testing jams on animals, but .... he's going to eat it anyway, so, you know - never look a gift cat in the mouth.

Canary in the coal mine

The cat ate some and seemed ok.  That's good enough for Anne and Mark (that and monitoring the cat's respiration and pulse for 45 minutes, just in case).

They're not going to come all the way to Bulgaria and then NOT try the rose petal jam.

The Trozone - watch your fingers while he's eating, kids.

Anne and Mark are happy to report that the jam, with a touch of what we think is margarine or something similar, is pretty tasty.  There are actual, visible rose petals in the jam, which is a little weird.  The taste is difficult to describe, but the closest we could up with is kind of like a sweetened rhubarb.

And, to wrap up the post, a picture of a car partially parking on the sidewalk.  These pictures may be getting tiresome, but that will not stop Trolard Pillinski from posting them here.  This one is somewhat interesting, though.  While living in Minneapolis, Madison or Washington, Mark sometimes wondered why people who drive around in the city all the time would need to have a vehicle that was designed for off-road purposes.  Well, this vehicle representing the Offroad Sandanski Team, parked on the street and sidewalk (and, technically, on both sides of a street corner - which is both impressive and wildly unnecessary) answers that question now and forever. Why do I need an off-road vehicle in the city?  So I can park half-way on the sidewalk.