|Turkish Cooking, Everyday|
Reminds me of my days at Denizhan 2 in Mersin. There was one of those annoying contraptions digging a well over there too. Made me want to send a nasty letter to the condo association:- Who decided to work on that project in the middle of the summer? When people were on vacation, in a vacation complex, and everyone had their windows open...
Enough of my griping.
(The headache brought it on, I swear.)
Thought I'd talk about water today.
We take it for granted here in the states - most places anyway. Up in Connecticut, I never worried because I had access to city water 24/7. Here in NC, city water or no, drought restrictions put me right in my place. Water is precious.
In Turkey, I spent a couple (stinky) weeks on Buyukada waiting for a water barge so I could take a real shower. Then I spent a couple days in Kadikoy waiting for someone to find the part for a pump. (Don't go on vacation with me. I seem to be cursed. Also, don't ask about the time I bought some bottled water with stuff floating in it.) That was all Istanbul, though.
Back to the well drilling rig at Denizhan - (There's a story there, I promise!) - Water pressure was much better after the well started up. It was, however, still VERY salty.
My mother-in-law recruited my husband as a driver for the day. Supposedly, the errands were close, and they would be right back, and I wouldn't want to wait in the car, etc. So I stayed in the apartment watchingTurkish TV which I barely understood.
Ding dong. Or rather - cheep, cheeeeeep, cheep. - since the doorbell sounded like a birdie fainting.
The neighbor across the way decided she wanted to pay us a visit. "Us" being me, because no one else was around. All her kids were out for the day and she was more than willing to keep me company. (Turkish people love to socialize.)
As an American bride, I wasn't much accustomed to drinking hot tea on a scorching August day, but I did know how to boil water. I riffled through the tea tins, measured out the loose tea, and showed my expertise with the nifty double stacked kettle.
Biscuits? Check. Cubed sugar? Check. Special guest tea glass? Check. Pretty tray? Check.
We sit down to not talk, because I only know a handful of words. She takes a sip and smiles. I take a sip and gag.
The moral of my story? I'm thankful what comes out of the tap here is worth drinking, no matter how much it costs.