Bulgarian Cat And Rat Saga

The rats are still having it all their own way after the new trap system was installed. It just didn’t work. The rats just aren’t interested in circus acts before being drowned in the sunflower seed covered water so it was back with another plan and another trap.

There are many types of trap they use here including the conventional spring loaded baited plate, but a favourite is the sprung door which is snapped shut when the bait is tampered with inside the metal cage. We set up one each of these traps for a few nights to see if we could any success. The bait I feel it the secret so every day we change the food that lures them.

Chicken, salami, sirene, chocolate, sunflower seeds, cake where some of the food we tried and then success! Some Bulgarian salami on the bait the metal cage did the trick and got its first rat. We were at the farmhouse at the time so it was left for Baba to do the business of drowning it in a bucket of water.

When we arrived Baba had saved the drowned rat for us to see. Not a pretty sight and brought about more worries on assessment. This was not the rats we had seen scampering in and out of the garage, but a baby rat! Rats don’t just have a single ratlet but a litter, there must be many other and the parents still have the run of the place. This rat was so to speak a drop in the ocean!

We decided there and then that enough was enough we should use poison. Galia and Baba were against this as they argued that there would be the smell of rotting rats that they would have to put up with through the warm weather we are having right now. What was the alternative? Well there wasn’t a case to answer really for not putting down poison now. Me being the man of the house was asked to make the decision even though they weren’t that keen on the answer.

The poison laid that night and the following morning it had all disappeared. This was a good feeling as I topped up the little plastic trays for another night of toxic feasting in store.
That same day we met up with some family and were dragged into their home for some beer and salami. They live on the 4th floor of an apartment in Yambol centre, we also met their cat! Mmm, the idea of borrowing a cat seemed on so I asked. The next thing I knew was the cat had been packed away in a travel cage with some cat food in a plastic bag and we were off home with a cat that wasn’t too happy about being shoved around.

The cat spent the night in the yard in his confined space and the following morning we opened the cage ready for it to check the garage for vermin after we had cleared all the poison away. No poison had been eaten, probably because the cat was in the area. As the door opened the cat sprung out scaled an 8-foot wall and landed in next doors driveway where a big guard dog was waiting. All we could hear was continuous barking and hissing.

As we ventured next door there was the confrontation, the dog wanting to attack but every time he when near the cat hissed and the dog stopped. That was how it was for quite a while. We managed to get the dog away, but the cat was now wild and would not let us anywhere near it. I got clawed and bitten trying to get the cat back into the travel cage. The only answer now was to get the owner, who we rung. He was due to arrive lunchtime and did. The cat was now in the box after the owner did the business and he was to collect it after work later that day.

The evening ended up with a party as the family came to collect the cat. I was a good idea but just didn’t’ work with this particular cat. We all got together to tell the story and catch up with other news. An excuse to bring out the Rakia, home grown salad from the factory farm picked earlier in the day and another sirene dish that I will have to write up about it was that good.

So more poison put down in the garage before bedtime as we have now run out of ideas. It should do the job as it does in the farmhouse where it is laid down permanently in hidden areas. No problems at all there.

Bulgarian Pasta for Breakfast

This morning I dropping off my partner to work as usual, only to find something was different when I got back home. On the kitchen table was a plate of steaming hot pasta. The word 'Zakooska' was thrown at me from Baba who was folding up the bedsheets in the living room. This word means breakfast. Baba had taken it upon herself to prepare me a traditional Bulgarian breakfast this morning. She came into the kitchen to explain that see had seen that I hadn't any cornflakes left and we were totally out of home baked banitsas, which is what I normally eat for breakfast.

Well how can I refuse this specially cooked breakfast lying on my place on the kitchen table. The thought of pasta 7:30 in the morning didn't really appeal at this point. It wasn't normal in my previous UK life to have such things this early the morning. I did occur that this was probably the most healthy eating option of all breakfasts, it did made sense to eat food like this first thing on a regular basis to give a steady energy level to lunchtime. Right now though I wasn't looking forward to eating it, but didn't want to upset Baba who had gone to so much trouble.

As I sat down, then Baba fetched and put by the plate of pasta some sirene (white goats cheese) and some sugar. She urged me to put some on the pasta dish before I start eating it. Adding sirene to the pasta wasnt' a problem, I didn't need much persuasion with this. The sugar addition was a different story, I just couldn't bring myself to add it to the dish. Pasta to me should be a savoury dish. The addition sugar to the sour taste of sirene would just confuse my taste buds which hadn't even had a chance to wake up yet.

So pasta and serene was my zakooska at this moment. The first few mouthfuls felt quite alien as the slimy pasta slipped and slide down into the empty depths of my stomach. I've had warmed up curry for breakfast before now in my student days, but that was a long time ago, this is different. By the time the pasta had been half eaten, my taste buds got a second wind. This food was great! Pasta and sirene, without sugar, I now couldn't get enough of it. The combination of bland tasting pasta and sirene which just brings many meals alive worked wonders with this dish. It reminded me of a simple boiled potato and sirene dish we sometimes have here.

Baba never makes food for one, its not economical to do that, she had made enough for three days. This will see us through to the weekend she said. It looks like pastas for breakfast is here to stay and with winter upon us what better way to start the day. Another revelation in the simplest of foods discovered today.

Bulgarian Spaghetti

I was with much surprise to see what delights greeted me at the dinner table this warm but balmy evening in Yambol. Never a day goes by where something just does the opposite to what you think is going to happen.

Only yesterday, when doing our daily shopping, Galia asks, “Would you like spaghetti tomorrow evening for dinner? I never disagree with Galia in shops it is a dangerous route to take. So the answer given is a question, “Do you like spaghetti?”

We decide that spaghetti is the meal for the next day as it is put into the basket. The strange thing is I’ve never had spaghetti cooked for me before by Galia. The occasions before have been pasta spread with sugar to sweeten and eaten for breakfast. This pasta-based dish is a normal breakfast meal only second to a coffee and cigarette in Bulgaria.

The spaghetti was Bulgarian spaghetti bought not from National Bulgarian pride, but the decision based purely on price. The cheapest is best is the saying here.

My expectations as to how the spaghetti was to be turned into a meal were never in doubt. Galia had worked in Italy so she must be aware of the process of perhaps spaghetti bolognese. No more was thought about it unit the call to the kitchen table this evening.

There on the table was a small earthenware bowl of cooked spaghetti. That was it, a bowl of spaghetti on its own. In the middle of the table was chopped sausage, sirene (white goat cheese), mayonnaise, margarine and an open jar of tomato and pepper sauce.

It was a do it yourself spaghetti dish. I watched and copied in turn Galia who added the ingredients one by one on to the plain spaghetti. It took a good 5 minutes for all the components to be added and mixed; then the fun started.

As with all Bulgarian meals we have on this table, the sole eating utensil is usually a fork, or a spoon with soup dishes. Today the norm was again just a fork. The struggle to eat the meal was quite an episode, the call for a Bulgarian baby's bib was nearly made by all. Luckily, we were all had our eating clothing on so no clothing spoilt this evening. The most frustrating thing was that the food tasted so good it couldn't’t be shovelled in your mouth quick enough.

Why did I ever think that spaghetti would be cooked and served Italian style when I was in Bulgaria? Well it was Bulgarian spaghetti after all. This was better than any Italian spaghetti dish I’d had before. I had also deduced that the Bulgarian sirene added made all the difference.

If ever you buy spaghetti in Bulgaria, buy the Bulgarian make, it's just as good if not better then the Italian brands, fresher, obviously being local. Then of course, the result of being a local product means it's cheaper!





http://365bulgarianadventures.com
http://therakiasite.com
http://doshforu.com