* I am still fine-tuning my daily commute. I biked to work this morning with my roommate Jen. (Several of us interns bought cycles this weekend. Pictures forthcoming. Stories will be, undoubtedly, ongoing.) The main road off of our avenue has been under construction (a more accurate term would be de-construction, not sure still why they dug up this quiet road when there are many others needing serious attention) and the dirt piles were cleared so we could cycle without having to cross over three lanes of the scary street to make a u-turn. However, we did have to cross the street, at a new (still scary) point. After I was facing five chaotic rows of cars, motorcycles, etc all making a left turn across my planned path, I decided the best option was to pick up my bike and walk along the median. Eventually, I found a relatively calm spot to hoist my bike back on the road and cross. And I mapped out a new path for tomorrow.
* I learned that a "hotel" is a synonym for "restaurant." Yes, after six weeks of eating at Palimar Hotel, Sangamum Hotel and Pamba Hotel (three popular lunch spots near our office) I learned that if you come to visit me, there is nowhere to sleep above or behind these eateries--and you don't want to sleep in the kitchen. But a hotel is also called a hotel. And many hotels do indeed have restaurants attached, and named the same name as the hotel. Oh.
* Whipped cream does not necessarily stay whipped if it is whipped in a hot or humid setting. And de-whipped cream will not be re-whipped. Tonight the other gal interns had us all over for a delicious feast; (pesto gnocchi, roasted vegetables, bruschetta, cheese and crackers, marinated rosemary chicken...am I back in Italy?) I provided dessert. I stopped to buy fresh strawberries from a newly discovered and very nearby fruit stand, (was momentarily distracted by a large parade processing through the rush hour traffic--a Northen wedding tradition--complete with a DJ and loud speakers blaring music to announce the groom riding slowly, gallantly on a white horse) and purchased vanilla ice cream and heavy cream from the corner store. The cream came in packets, which was interesting. So I whipped and whipped and finally got stiff peaks. Then walked away to check my brownies melting into gooey goodness in the Celsius-degree oven. When I came back, my perfect peaks had melted. I discovered that a kitchen sans AC does not bode well for a dessert snob with Glancy Girl genes. At any rate, the brownie sundaes and strawberries in cream turned out to be a lovely combination.
What a great day.
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