We arrived late last night and were given no food. Just before midnight. The village had not been called out to feast the arrival of guests. Weirdly enough I could probably have eaten (mostly for politeness sake).
In the particular area of the country we are in they think Christmas is cake. They live on cake for weeks after Christmas because they made so many for Christmas. Then they start making cakes for next Christmas.
Some readers will be aware that a few months back I proved I could be a trainee sheep dog.
For various definitions of "proved" and "sheep dog"
No one here was believing that kind of crap and I was just a sightseer. I wasn't even allowed near the working dogs because they don't trust Australian credentials.
Traditional Breakfast has no makeup, it doesn't need it
I was allowed to have a traditional Polish Farmers (for this area) breakfast. By allowed I mean that I would probably be tomorrows breakfast for the working dogs if I didn't eat it after arriving late at night and "just going to bed on an empty stomach".
My Princess never needs makeup. The 8 million calories of soup can be an issue though
Food And Beverage Review: Biały Barszcz (White Barshshshshshshshshshshsh)
Farmers have no time for piss farting around. Someone gets up and starts the soup. Someone else gets up and starts the eggs. Someone else gets up and prepares the bacon, gherkins, garlic, sausage and bread. Someone else comes and wakes me because the barszcz is ready.
White creamy relatively bland soup in bowls, chopped up everything else on a board, add to the soup what you want and enjoy (unless you cooked it in which case "enjoy secretly but loudly decry how crap this one is compared to your last effort").
Aga is actually very polite and would never do that deliberately. She will make you eat cake though.
In Japan apparently some chefs causally mention "your soup is ready" which means "eat you dumbarse, my soup is going to ruin". Here they are more direct. They threaten you with cake in your bed unless you get down to the breakfast table.
I did not have enough of anything or everything in my soup and most specifically I eat garlic like some kind of lady from another part of Poland, possibly even a different country! Not like the powerful lasses they breed in these parts.
I filled my soup with stuff 'til you couldn't see the soup and the complaints receded.
Rating 8/10 (everyone knows I have a weakness for participation food)
After breakfast we were allowed to look at the cows. That is roughly when I found out I am now one of the cool kids because I am drinking unpasteurised milk. I am still alive so take that you stupid smelly frenchman!
Trust is a two way street and I don't trust that demon cow (this photo requires clicking)
For some reason cats in Poland over the past decade or so have had their expected lifespans halved. No one knows why. I am told this by one person and therefore it is the truth and interesting.
The cats are small though, I thought they were "only just not kittens". the same guy told me they were old. I assume old by the new Polish standards.
Post bovine browsing we frolicked forestward.
Trees! Nature!
Polish farms have a habit of being long and narrow as they have been cut up over the years for the brothers of the family.
Thorns! Smiles!
They also have a habit of not being connected to the house the family live in (fortunately ours was) and this leads to people driving tractors and horses and such slowly around the place as they go to work.
Apocalyptic Sunrays!
We strolled and looked at the plants and the forests. Then we went home and were offered more cake.
Cake is only after a good healthy dinner of course.
Cultural Observations: Polish Hospitality
There is an ad here for Ranigast.
I am not a priest and even they need medicine to help them survive the hospitality.
Rating: 8/10 (better than starving but lord it can be scary)
Plans:
Buy / Design / Build some kind of cake concealing machine.
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