The day after I came back from Slovakia, my host mother had a Christmas party. She explained to me, in very broken English, that some families would be coming over to celebrate the holidays. I offered to help her set up. Her choice of appetizers were classy and admirable; a bowl filled with assorted olives, a shallow, rectangular plate layered with dates, dried figs and apricots, spiced nuts sitting in a glass dish…I knew she had picked and shelled the nuts herself, she had taken them from her country cottage. Rosy pink salami and fresh, sliced cheeses sat on a ceramic platter. She popped some popcorn and sprinkled powdered cheese on top and put some conventional potato chips into a bowl as well.
At the end of the night, I helped her clean up. We put all of the extra food on the table.
“You can have…all…” she struggled to say. I nibbled at the assorted foods here and there. I helped package up perishables. I still had my independent study to finish, but I was hungry for more food.
“Will you…um…keep that?” I asked her, pointing to the bowl of sour cream she was getting ready to toss into the garbage. I wish I knew the words in Czech.
“Ah…no…you want?”
I nodded ”Yes, I will take…with this,” I grabbed the open bag of chips.
Because all I wanted at that moment, were chips and dip.
