Italian vs. Bosnian in talking with hands competition

Leila and I caught "talking" at the Dino party seem in competition for Most Dynamic speaker. Also, see the amazing chocolate cake! 

I don't remember what we were talking about as plenty of red wine from Croatia was involved this evening, but I will tell you my favorite story of the night.

While preparing for the party we were very tight on refrigerator room to keep everything. So I pulled this huge, ugly hunk of old meat from the back of the second shelf. It looked like a dead thing. It was in the refrigerator in Drew's old apartment when I arrived in early May. "Do you want this?" I said when moving. "Is it any good?" Drew will not eat leftovers the next day so I couldn't understand the attachment to this hunk of flesh. "It's aged meat," he responded, "so I think it's OK." I moved it, therefore, but he is out of the country for a month and there the hunk was sitting.

I told Miranda I'd throw it out and we'd have room for the carrot-raisin salad. STOP, she yelled.

Turns out the hunk was prsut, a delicacy, aged, smoked ham. Miranda took out a knife and sliced it into thin pieces that were the appetizers at the party. What can I say, me the butcher's daughter. It looks a lot different when it's sliced.

I have another party food story. I go to KONZUM the wonderfully named new supermarket near the apartment to get tomatoes, a lemon, carrots and mushroom, all, you note, which is produce.

I find the stuff and take it to the scale. There is no one manning the scale. Instead there's a big scary sign all in Bosnian explaining how to use the scale. I consider calling Miranda to come help but instead use all those Bosnian lessons I have paid for and translate the freaking sign. You have to find a code for each item and enter it along with pressing the 1 key and some other stuff to get a label and price tag you stick on the bag of produce. It was exhausting, but shopping made cooking seem easy!