Easy as Pie...pizza pie!

Last year everyone kept saying that year two would be so much easier than year one. Through tears and frustrations of year one, I scoffed. How could this possibly get easier? What I should have been asking was how could it get any harder? So far, year two is easier.

Day-to-day life is easier. I know where the grocery store is; I know which bus to take if I want to go to the movies; I know how to get a round trip train ticket to Mersin or Adana. School life is easier too. I know what behavior to expect from the kids, and I know how to prevent a lot of their questions, behaviors, nerves, antics. I know what a normal day should look like; I know when to go to lunch to avoid a noisy lunch room. And for these simple undertakings, I'm grateful.

It's nice to know my brain doesn't always need to be on alert, and I can kindof get through my day without having too much difficulty. Even though this is only week three of the school year, I can already see how things are going to be different because I'm doing things differently.

One thing I've been able to focus on more is cooking. Last year, I was pretty lazy and relied quite a bit on cereal for dinner. I know we've all done it, but it does get a bit monotonous. In the month since I've been back, I've already tried 15 new recipes:  lemon blueberry pancakes, kettle corn, chicken fajitas, peach cobbler, homemade pizza sauce, homemade granola bars, and lahmacun (Turkish pizzas -- one of my favorite Turkish dishes) Not too shabby!

Since I love, lahmacun (pronounced llama-june), I thought I would try to make some for a dinner we had a few weeks ago. Instead of googling a quick recipe, I thought who better to ask, but some of my Turkish friends.

The ingredients and the small sticky note in the photos to the left are evidence of what happens when you ask four Turks for a recipe in Turkey -- at least my experience. Not pictured -- a laptop essential for Google translate and Google images. Additionally, I was unable to document the hour long conversation that ensued-- sometimes Turkish, sometimes English, much debate, and priceless.

Starting in the upper left hand corner: dried purple basil -- one of the most challenging items to determine in English. Perhaps my cooking expertise is lacking, but I had never heard of purple basil. My friends kept telling me it was basil; I wasn't buying it. Hence, we turned to Google images. It smells earthy with a spiciness (not hot though) to it. Definitely an essential in lahmacun and other Turkish dishes.

The Belmont Gold coffee jar contains homemade pepper paste made by Muhsin's mom hence the hand written "pepper paste". While not coffee, it truly is gold as I've seen families working to procure enough peppers to make pepper paste. (In a very early blog post, I took photos of my neighbors preparing to make the paste. It's a challenge!) Totally normal to reuse any jar or container to put in something else (Turkey's small attempt at recycling. Very small.)

The second bag contains thyme -- not used in lahmacun, but the Turks were convinced I needed it for something else. I've learned it's just easier and really more polite to take what is offered, smile, and say thank you. (A lesson I can apply in many facets of life.)

Finally, the small sticky note contains a mixture of English and Turkish, yet not any exact measurements. When I've had Turks over for dinner, they were intrigued when I used measure cups and spoons.

After I mixed my ingredients, I took the bowl to the local baker. He makes pide (a type of bread), lavaş (tortilla like), and will make the bread for lahmacun. I dropped of my mixture, and about an hour and a half later, I went and picked up my piping hot dinner. Fabulous! Luckily, I had gotten to the shop before two other ladies as they too were making lahmacun for a Friday night.

To properly eat a mini pizza, a sprig of parsley goes on top, squeeze of a fresh lemon, fold in half, and eat. Sorry, the lahmacun in the photo isn't mine. They were gone before I could get my camera!