I got the urge a few days ago for my favorite Bulgarian food (so far). It’s called Musaka and it’s down right tasty. It’s pretty much just ground meat (I wish I could say “beef” but I can’t decipher the product content. It’s a mixture of beef, pork and veal), spices, chopped up potatoes and onions under a crust of beaten eggs, yogurt and flour.


It may not look that good, but believe you me, it was excellent. A little soupy (I boiled the potatoes first. I was later informed by my Bulgarian tutor that that’s not needed) but good. When I went to buy potatoes from my vegetable stand where my baba works, her husband asked me why I was buying potatoes. I told him I was going to make Musaka. He was incredulous! “You’re making Musaka!? Why?” “Well”, I replied “I live alone and have to feed myself some how” (OK, that was a lie. I just told him that I live alone and hoped he would understand that the second part was implied. My Bulgarian is still limited.) He laughed and told me that he can’t cook but it’s OK since “Baba is a very good cook”. He smiled, patted me on the pat and threw in an onion for my Musaka adventure. I thanked him and wished him a wonderful evening.

I had been talking about how I was going to make it that evening that I stirred my fellow PCVs to take action. The esteemed Thomas Lodwick of Kresna also tried his hand with delicious results.

Today at work I mostly studied my Bulgarian. It’s quite noticeable that I’ve forgotten quite a bit. My tutor on Tuesday asked me to be serious. I pleaded with her “Аз съм сериозен!” (I am being serious!). Yes, my Bulgarian had regressed that much. But as our lesson progressed, I made steady improve me. “Както карам колело” (Like riding a bike) I told her. She still wasn’t amused that I had forgotten so much. So today, I tried to impress her by writing a lengthy (at latter proved somewhat error ridden) paragraph about what I did over New Years. At the end of my lesson, she had me read a dialog about someone going to a post office. Not a big deal, right? Wrong! I then proceeded to spend (I kid you not) the next 10 minutes, straight, trying to distinguish “картичкaтa” (the post card) from ” къртицатa” (the mole). I have come to the conclusion, that I will never be able to say “post card” correctly. So in an effort to save my dignity, I won’t ask the friendly post office lady for a mole, you’ll probably just get a letter from me.

One the way home I was mulling over what I would cook for dinner. I decided that scrambled eggs would result in the least amount of dirty dishes and still be a tasty/hot meal. I went it and greeted the family that runs the store. They’re very nice people and I chat with them when I stop by. (The most memorable conversation I had with them was when the son asked me if we drank cow’s milk in the US. I didn’t know what cow was then so I told him I didn’t understand. the father made horns on his head and started to moo.) I walk to the back and ask for a hat for three eggs. Not surprisingly, she had no idea what I was talking about. After a brief, awkward exchange, I left with a bag of eggs. As I walked out I pulled off the impossible, slipping three times in five seconds but not falling. I would have been sad about the eggs, but even more so with egg covered Vafla (not to worry Thomas, I got Borovets).


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3 Responses to “Musaka”

  1. Lisa Says:

    We play the “do you have/eat/drink/do __ in America” game too! Love the cow story though. One of my other favorite games for English people is asking them to name 5 major US cities. They always get confused and start naming states. It’s often a bit of an ordeal to get to 5. But it’s fun and makes me feel better for some reason 🙂

  2. Thomas Says:

    I think it’s imperative that you, Kellen and I repeatedly link to one another’s blogs. Seriously though, that is professional looking Musaka. Bravo na teb.

  3. Kellen Says:

    I agree with Thomas. Once I learn how to do so I will post links. Past couple of blogs have been aces.

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