I took a trip to Greece with some friends a couple of years ago and the food there was somewhat different, so just for kicks I taught an ag-lesson-a-day to my friends. It was basic stuff like what is the difference between a brown egg and white egg? The answer: the color of the feathers of the hen laying the egg – white hens lay white eggs, red hens lay brown eggs. Well, I think it is time to start an ag-lesson-a-day here, except for now I will be the student and not the teacher.
The other day we bought some eggs from a local shop here and promptly put them in bleach water to remove the feces, dirt, and straw that were still on them. When we did that, we noticed that 8 of them sunk and 2 of them floated and all of a sudden we felt the need to know why. One of my roommates, Becca, a native Nebraskan farm girl, said she thought it meant that they were rotten. We weren’t sure and wanted to be sure without having to take the smelly risk of checking by cracking the egg, so I googled the question. As it turns out, the older an egg gets, the bigger the air pocket in the large end of the egg gets (which I vaguely remembered), which means that slightly older eggs will turn on their small end (have the large end floating), but very old or rotten eggs will float entirely. Good eggs are supposed to sink. After googling the question, we all decided that that is one of those things you just never really need to know in America. So, now you know (even though you don’t need to).
In other food related news, I got home from language a little early today and our cook was still working, so I offered to help. It sounds selfless, but really I just wanted to learn how to make tortillas and figured today was as good a day as any. I am ashamed to admit that I really am not that great in the kitchen. I’m gonna blame it on too many times when I helped with the outside work instead of helping my mom in the kitchen. She majored in Home Economics, so I am probably shameful to her with my lack of cooking skills 🙂 I mean, I can follow a recipe, but that is about it. Anyways, this poor cook didn’t know what she was in for. After she sifted the flour and found a weevil (I think) and a few other odds and ends in it, I realized that I didn’t sift the flour in the cookies I made last night. Ooopsie. Who knew? Yet again, something you don’t really need to do in America. (And, yes, I am still going to eat those cookies – I will not let chocolate chips go to waste!) Anyways, we mixed in the salt, water, and shortening and then she graciously allowed me to knead the dough. However, we didn’t have all day for me to go at the pace of a tortoise so she eventually took back over. Homegirl could knead some dough! She said it was many years of practice and I believe her! Next, she laid a ball of dough out on the counter and rolled one out. It ended up a perfectly symmetrical and evenly spaced tortilla. I did the next 8. They were not symmetrical, nor evenly spaced. When they were all laying out on the counter, it could have been a game of “which of these things is not like the other ones” with hers being the only one that looked right! Oh well, there are plenty more tortilla making days in my future I am afraid!