Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Czech mushroom sauce

I’m waiting for a very slow email to come in, so thought I’d pop by and say hi. It’s another wonderfully sunny day in Prague and I can hear the kids from the high school across the way, on the sidewalk and street, catching up with each other during break. If I looked out the window I’d see them from the top down - heads hoodies and baggie jeans accented with cigarette, headphones, or both. Inside, Caroline has set up her plastic stove right in the middle of the kitchen and she and Marie are cooking up a storm. Marie brought in a big basket of mushrooms today, fresh from the countryside south of Prague: Penny Buns, Orange Birch Boletes, Brown Birch Scaber Stalks, maybe even a Slippery Jack. Already, cut into pieces, they are on their way towards the collective hegemony that is mushroom sauce, ready to serve over steamed dumplings for lunch. It smells delicious, but I’m glad I snapped a shot of the mushrooms in their basket, so many shades of brown, and beautiful. Outside, the bell rings. The kids make one last crackle of noise, like birds rising from trees, then flick their cigarettes away and head back in to class.

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