Yesterday we moved into our new apartment, so to celebrate Peter thought he’d make me a breakfast this morning like he used to make me back in Canada every Saturday. Last night we went to the supermarket and picked up some eggs, bacon, juice, and milk.
As he cooked the bacon, it started to emit some odd smells… Peter called me over to smell it, and we couldn’t decide what it was. Lamb? Something else? It definitely wasn’t bacon.
We gave up on the bacon, and moved on to the eggs. It hadn’t occurred to us in the store that they don’t sell eggs by the dozen; they sell them in metric (e.g., by tens).
After he’d started cooking the eggs (sunny side up, my favourite) Peter realized that we’d not bought a spatula… and when the eggs were done cooking, he realized that we don’t yet have plates!
Oh yeah, we don’t have forks and knives either… our first breakfast: eating eggs sunny-side-up in a bowl with chopsticks. Talk about mixing cultures! Not the most successful endeavour, but we had a good laugh. Peter’s decided to try this again next week.
The meat? It turned out to be beef: dinner for tonight!