Cooking here in Andrew & Nancy's Egyptian apartment is a challenge, to say the least. It took me a couple of days just to get over the fear of even walking into their small kitchen with its barely-hanging-onto-the-walls cabinets and old, scary appliances. However, I can now light the stove and oven with the greatest of ease. I even wash the dishes after almost every meal (because there aren't enough dishes for the next meal if I don't). I do miss my small appliances--my Bosch mixer, a hand mixer, toaster oven, blender, crockpot, electric frying pan, electric griddle, etc. Here I am, a 51-year-old grandmother, trying to make a batch of cookies without a mixer! Let me tell you, it ain't easy.
So for lunch today, I was craving toast. Yes, just a piece of toast. Can't just pop a piece of fresh bread in the toaster and then lather it with my favorite margarine and jam! Here's what I had to do: break off a couple of small slices of bread from the loaf in the freezer, light the stove, melt some lovely Lurpak unsalted butter in a small frying pan, place bread in melted butter and smash it down in the pan so it could thaw and then cook in the butter, turn bread over and repeat with the other side, put on plate and smear a little peanut butter and some strawberry jam on the toast, carry the plate out to the dining area so I could share with Rachel. It turned out pretty well, I thought. Andrew turned his head to see what I was eating and exclaimed, "How'd you get toast?" I said, "From the toaster." He looked at me with his endearing incredulous face and said, "But we don't have a toaster!" I just smiled back while he kept asking me how I did it. He even went to the kitchen to try and figure it out. What a sweet, gullible child I raised!