Turkish Breakfast and the Boys

Now that we have a bigger apartment, we've got lots of overnight guests, some of them being Turks. While I thoroughly enjoy hosting Turks, I also get a little anxious when it comes time to prepare for their stay. The reputation of Turks, in general, is that 1. The inside of their houses are immaculate and 2. The women are incredible cooks that can whip up enough food for an army on a moment's notice. Hmmm...  Do you see why I get anxious? House cleaning is not my strong suit. Just ask my mom. Better yet, ask my dear friend Garry who once saw my crazy messy Korean apartment and said (in his wonderful British accent), "I pity the man that marries you." Don't worry, we're still friends.

Most of what I cook for our Turkish guests is American food because, honestly, that's what I'm good at. I've only got 2-3 Turkish dishes that I've mastered. The rest usually turn out like middle school Home Economics assignments that only garner B's and C's.

The one thing I do always serve, though, is a Turkish breakfast. It's much different than your run-of-the-mill American breakfast. You won't find Fruit Loops, and pancakes, and donuts, and bacon. You will find cucumbers, and hard-boiled eggs, and olives, and white cheese. You'll also find fresh bread, jam, plain yogurt, tea, and seasonal fruit. The first time I stayed at a Turkish hotel I turned my nose up at the breakfast. "Where's the good stuff?" I thought. But, alas, two years into this gig and I find that the Turkish breakfast can often hit the spot.
     

A few pictures of the lovely men in my life:

Messing around with the sleeping bags

Eli and his best bud, Semih (Sem -EEE)

Noah on a quilt made by his great-aunt, Dorothy.