What IS This?!

“What IS this?!”  Just as soon I finished chewing what I had put in my mouth, these three words came out of it. What I had innocently assumed to be a mushroom was definitely not a mushroom.

I looked closer at my plate. Their appearance really threw me off. Mixed in with the carrots and peas, why wouldn’t this stemmed, cone-shaped chunk be anything other than a mushroom?

It’s totally a mushroom. One of the stringy, chewy, hallow kinds. They grow those here, right?

I wish.

How does that saying go? Ignorance is bliss?

Well, ignorance is short-lived. And bliss can be deceiving. With even the slightest prick of a pin, a bubble can pop, quickly sucking one out of oblivion. Exposure to fact is inevitable. Even if you don’t ask for it, someone else will.

Someone like me.

Today, I was the pin popping blissful ignorance. My sincerest regrets to all. How I would love to have remained in the dark about the mysterious mouthful I dared to swallow.

Oh giblets.
That just might become my substitute swear-word, because Lord knows, I wanted to swear after hearing what I had just forced down my throat.

Giblets. AKA chicken organs. Apparently the once vital heart, gizzard, and liver still serve postpartum purpose after the birthing of its principal juicy roast. How was I supposed to know that the life of a chicken isn’t over until every visceral offal is consumed? The cavity’s contents must not be forgotten!

I’d rather they were.

Some find them a delicacy; I’m sure many in the room delighted over this royal treat.
But as for me, I felt almost violated. A warning would have been nice. At least then I would have been able to mentally prepare/ it would have been my intentional choice to eat or not eat what I ate.

However, that is not what happened. What did happen is I deceivingly ate several little chicken hearts.

Valves and all.



Dried dates have become somewhat of a dessert food for me. Especially Iranian dried dates. MmmmMmm they are so delicious. Every time I pass buy our nut stand man, he greets me in such a friendly manner that I give-in and end up leaving with a small packet containing my favorite dried fruit. They come in handy as a reward during study breaks or after coming home from a long day at work. One bite into that caramel-like, fiber-filled treat and my taste buds are flying high! Makes me regret passing up an opportunity to try date-shakes passing through Palm Dessert one time in college…

Anyways, today after a long morning of Turkish, it seemed fitting to reward ourselves with dates. I had heard stories of people finding bugs and whatnot in fruit here, but despite the warnings, we tend to keep doing what we do until something bad actually happens to us, right? I’m not going to let skeptical fear get between me and my dried dates.

I grabbed a handful and sat down to enjoy the gooey texture and savory flavor.

An aspect I appreciate about dates is that one can’t just pop them in nonchalantly; there are hard pits in the middle which forces one to take one’s time in taking a bite, removing the obstacle, then proceeding to nibble on the rest. It’s slow. I love that even dried dates follow my yavaş yavaş motto.

So as I was slowly eating my dates, I took my time to look down as I removed the pit. This was both a good choice and a bad choice. It was a good choice because I stopped myself from what I almost ate; it was a bad choice because now I know. Now I know that little white grubworms like to live inside my dried dates.


I don’t know exactly what this means. Will I continue my affair? Or do I allow this one occasion to ruin my love for dried dates? Maybe we just need a break… though it will take a lot for me to forget the image of a happy little worm wiggling inside my date. Lesson learned.

Turkish Breakfast

Breakfast is and always will be my favorite meal. Remember my waffle blog? I’m a bit obsessed. I would eat breakfast food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I would marry breakfast:) Well, maybe I wouldn’t go that far… I do my best not to idolize, but instead intensely appreciate breakfast food. It’s the little things in life, amen? Which brings me to the turkish breakfast. At first, I was a worried as to what breakfast food here might behold. Fear not, my worries have been dismissed and replaced with sheer joy, as breakfast ought to be. Even in Turkey, breakfast still remains my favorite meal. YUM.

All this (plus a hardboiled egg that isn’t shown) for only 5 lira/2.5 USD! God bless breakfast!!! Completely gluten free:)