For the Love of Wasabi

I love wasabi. I would marry wasabi. Apparently, Laid-Off Dad likes wasabi too:

"Culinary Revelation of the Day

If you dip a wasabi rice cracker in wasabi mayonnaise, pop it in your mouth, and chase it with a handful of wasabi peas, you can see through time."

Hamburg Weather

Last weekend was one of those weekends that makes you want to dig out your Easter egg-colored sweaters and hide the cozy winter grey ones. It was actually, dare I say it, warm in the sun. Martin and I did our little traditional tour on Sunday where we buy fish and chips at Landungsbrücken, go for a little walk along the Elbe to the Fischmarkt, then take the ferry to Övelgönne and saunter along the beach for a while. This time we finished the day with mulled wine at a café, watching the boats go by. Even the birdies were enjoying themselves.

This Sunday is a bit different:

 

Build a Little Pup Tent in Your Soul

It's kind of late for a Christmas post, but oh well.

Perhaps it was due to overindulgence of wine at dinner, but our pew at Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve was a wee bit giggly. By a wee bit, I mean a lot, and by our pew, I mean us. But that's how bad the service was.

We didn't really get what the priest was on about during the homily, but from what we gather, he was trying to impart to us the three rules of Christmas:

1. If you receive a tent as a gift, you have to give it away.


2. You are allowed to keep cars.


3. In the case of meat products, you must share them and additionally provide carrots, potatoes, and cabbage.

We were regaled with stories of Jesus building pup tents in our hearts, interspersed with the phrase, "It's not Christmas until you give it away" over and over (and over again), which of course led me to start quoting Red Hot Chili Peppers to Emilie...

Then the priest moved on to the story of his receiving a car from a parishoner who had passed on. We were expecting him to expound on his 'give it away' theme and tell us he found a family in trouble who could use the car more than he could, but no - he liked the car a lot and got a lot of enjoyment out of driving it.

And finally, there was a very confusing story about receiving 10 pounds of corned beef on St. Patrick's Day, during which the priest seemed rather bitter that he had to share it and was expected to provide vegetables. We heard a lot about the vegetables.

It was during this time that my mother started plotting our escape - she sent Emilie and Nate to collect the car and meet us at the rendevous at the appointed time. Mom then worked on getting bundled up with a minimum of disturbance, and managed to discover that her cape/coat had slits for her hands to poke through. It was a bit like watching an infant discover that, oh wait, that's my hand! She looked so proud... and yet... slightly confused. All with a bit of 'voila!' mixed in.