TASTY & TESTY SUMMER TRIP TO BULGARIA

 TASTY & TESTY TRIP TO BULGARIA

Going back to Bulgaria once in a while is about getting in a world I have left many years ago. I keep coming back to see if the sea is deeper, the mountains are higher, the people are as hospitable as they were before. Did the trials and errors of the politicians and economy have changed them? I kept my eyes wide open. I did not want to miss a thing.

I will not write a tour guide, or a beautiful story of the country, often neglected by foreigners, who favor the bordering countries -- Turkey or Greece. The Internet has plenty of them all. "This is Bulgaria" trailer on YouTube takes you masterfully into this tiny country in Eastern Europe and leaves you in one minute wondering how in the world you did not know about it. 

I am born and raised in Bulgaria. I visited her this summer along with my American husband and my family, residing in other parts of Europe. 

We all admired the beauty of the land, the little villages with churches; some were more preserved than the houses around; the pleasant Mediterranean climate, the beaches and the Black Sea. My husband was very excited about the trip (his second one.) It was supposed to be a laid-back, relaxing vacation, lying at the beach with family, eating nice food, engaging in the endless Bulgarian conversations. No plans, no pressure. 

My husband knows the food in Bulgaria is fresh and he will eat a LOT of it... I don't blame him. Americans love to eat. Without good food, the vacation is never complete. 
 
The first meal did not disappoint. It was sooo delicious, all countries' representatives at the table gave it a "hands down."  We called it "Bulgarian version of the Mexican fajitas." 

In my opinion, it was 10 times better. It had an abundance of vegetables -- eggplants, squash, onions, potatoes, garlic, peppers. Meat was represented by pork and chicken. Many spices, herbs, flavors... It was cooked in a deep cast iron pan -- slowly, very slowly, to allow each ingredient to have enough play time with the others.
 

I already said the blog post is about "tasty and testy." We already had the tasty. The testy, annoying, making you scream part was the customer service. 

My husband was the only one at the table not speaking Bulgarian. The rest were multi-language speakers.  Sometimes, among Bulgarians, I get away with not translating everything to him. Not this time. When I translate with one sentence a long conversation, it is clear to him, I am skipping what he is not supposed to know. So, I translated every word the waiter in a restaurant said to us. The commotion, the facial expression spoke for themselves. In response to our question about the wait time, he answered,"Do you expect me to go to the kitchen and cook for you?"

Just like that! Testy, uuuhhh. In a split second, the kitchen magic was gone. Our jaws dropped. 

We are both foodies. In the restaurant world we live, we have not witnessed anything like that. But, the good food compensated for the bad customer service. The waiter "took the cake."

It was a complete relief to see a  totally different type of service in a small village restaurant. What we did not find in the big city, we found it in the village. We saw the true, down to earth, friendly people, unscathed by any filth in life. They did not care who is from where. They smiled... They showed all they are capable to cook and it stood up in our minds. Everyone back in USA heard stories about the village, the hospitality and the smiles.

The Black Sea resorts offer in many areas the "Everything Included" business model. Extended eating hours, bars, restaurants. Variety was there, but cooking for hundreds of people coming at the same time always affects the taste and abundance of the most popular dishes. I could never get up early enough to get all the fruits I like, nor did I get the signature sweet bread. At least, I boast about making it around Easter in USA. However, all the kids were happy; they did not ask for variety.

Keeping it real, there is food and drinks all the time, clean pools next to the hotels, work-out areas, entertainments for children and adults -- tennis, children shows, saunas, massages,  aerobics. The Sea itself presents a memorable view. 

We snuck out one day to see a small little town close by. The old part with the souvenirs and handmade crocheted table cloths, the rose oil and rose beauty creams filled my bag. Excellent presents. All my friends smell like Bulgarian roses now. 

The cobble streets took us to a fantastic little restaurant. My husband got the fish of his dreams - turbot, the famous Bulgarian salad, and fresh mussels. It is all captured in the pictures below.

We had 3 hours of food blitz. I wish it was more. We met a young man, who served us. He was very serious at the beginning, but once he learned I was Bulgarian, he warmed up. He told us that every day they serve fish, whose road from the net to being cooked and served is very short. "Come again in the evening. There is music playing. I will save you a table!" He offered. We wish we could.

I am trying to save the real testy for last. It was again customer service, who made us think of not going to the same hotel again. It must have been our bad luck. 

It really weighs heavy on my heart. Americans say "nothing hurts like the truth." I debated a lot if I should be the one to criticize constructively, or I should be like most of the other expats in USA -- soaking in nostalgia, enjoying every visit without being bothered by the sand in my shoes.

I choose to stay true to myself.

It is not unusual to have problems with Internet connection in most European hotels. We had to find this special corner in the room or in the common areas, where the signal is strong enough to connect with my husband's office. Both of our phones could not be used at the same time. I gave up my rights in favor of the work my husband did. He needed to be in touch with  his office and did real work during vacation.

One day, the internet was down in any location of the hotel. We went to the reception area to explain the problem. The answer from the front desk was, "This is not my fault!"; "This is not my responsibility." After my husband asked for the manager, he was told that the manager was in a meeting. There was no "I am sorry, Sir. We are working on it. I apologize for inconveniencing you." An hour later, I tried to use my Bulgarian language. The manager was around this time

I have no clue how I kept my composure.  Maybe, living in USA really changed me.... The internet was back on shortly, but my husband did not get any "sorry."

You may argue, that this is not a big deal. The big deal [to me] is the lack of regret and respect for the customer.

The sign you see to the left of the paragraph was put on my fridge upon my return. It reflected the predominant business attitude. 

Then, I took it down and replaced it with a beautiful picture of the Black Sea.  

One hotel will not put a stain on the restaurant and cleaning crew trying to earn a living there. Tourism provides the major employment in the area. These people did quietly and diligently their jobs. 

We Thank All of Them.

Blog Disclaimer: Some characters appearing in this blog are fictitious or composite. Any resemblance to real situations and real people are purely coincidental. The owner will not be liable for any errors or omissions nor for the availability of this information. The owner will not be liable for any losses, injuries, or damages from the display or use of this information.

 

LOOK, STORKS!

LOOK, STORKS!

Fresh picture taken by G. Coleman

I had not seen any storks  since I immigrated from Bulgaria to USA 22 years ago. One of my older blog posts was about wearing a martenitsa -- a pure Bulgarian tradition. True to the tradition, I also have martenitsa hanging on a tree in my little yard. Spring came, then summer started... It is way past the time to take off the martenitsa from the birch tree. There is no doubt what so ever winter is gone... It is 80 degrees out. True, but the martenitsa is peaking sadly from behind the leaves and reminding me of being a child many years ago. I am waiting to see a stork....

Then, a miracle occurred. I saw Mr. and Mrs. Stork during our trip in Bulgaria. Upon my return to USA, I gleefully took the old martenitsa down. On next March first, a new one will be hanging on the tree, along with the new expectations for love, happiness and health for all of us.

In many mythologies the stork is a symbol of prosperity, fertility, commitment in marriage. It is not just a big bird; it is a creature of significance for everyone's life. 

There are many storks in Bulgaria this summer (I was told). I met The Storks on the way to the Black Sea. Standing in all their glory in their big nest, completely unperturbed by the cars driving on the highway. 

I never thought there was a chance to meet The Storks right there, on top of an electrical pole. "Here you are! Sitting all pretty, while I have been waiting for you in USA. Hi, there!"  

Suddenly, Monday's driving to the Black Sea got very exciting. Even with a guide like my brother-in-law, who is a real history buff and story teller, there was not much to catch the eye. There were not even enough bad drivers. He saw The Storks first. I was more excited that the 9-year old in the car. The car stopped; pictures were taken. Not only did I see storks, I remembered how important they were in my childhood. What does Santa do? Santa brings presents. The stork brought the neighbors' boy. There is no place for comparison.

Pic courtesy of njaj/Digitalphotos.com

When you think about it, it is not a bad cop out for parents to use the stork as a sub for serious conversations about love and babies and sex. Even nowadays, there are celebration cards with a stork when a baby is born in a family. 

After we passed The Storks the conversation started in my head. I had to look into their life more when back in USA. 

The long legs, black and white wings, long necks, and bills, making a strange clattering noise.... My relative focused on what he thought I had to remember first: "The storks build big nests and return to the same nest every year." He continued, "they are monogamous; they do not change nests or partners." 

Well, this may, or may not be completely true, per Wikipedia, but I will trust my relative. He cannot be convinced that "may" is sufficient proof for birds infidelity after migration.  

How can storks play such an important role in mythology if they do not possess the value to be faithful to their partner? If I discover this, I will fire them in a minute. There are many birds waiting to take their important job.

I will finish this post with an Aasop's fable, which my babysitter used to read to me as a child. It was one of my favorite. She was a good reader, too. I still enjoy it. 

There is moral to every story....