Christmas Treats, Part 1

We won't talk about exams right now, except to say that they're over, until January 11th. I've passed at least one course, but without distinction ("Speaking & Listening"). My pal, Russian Jenia, scored her usual 9. Four of our ten flunked.

So, there I was, in my neighborhood supermarketje (it's little), the "Deka", paused as usual in the produce. Things take different forms here (root things, particularly; I just finished watching two Harry Potters on my laptop, so roots are everywhere. Yet another excuse to watch Alan Rickman in action.)

Anyway: produce! My eyes roamed the array and suddenly, I spied something peculiar. A basket that offered small, rosy, pellet things that looked like both oval golf balls and also tiny meteors. Edible, they did not appear to be. Then, I saw the sign: LICHEES!!!!! I sniffed them, and what to my wondering eye/nose. I scooped up about a dozen for myself and then a few for my neighbors, who wined and dined me on Exam #2 night.

They are so delectable. Not at all gooey, as they are in Chinese restaurats. There's a technique to removing the meteor-like "peel" (start by pulling/pushing off the little knob at top that attaches it to whatever grows it (must look it up on the 'net); then squeeze just a little, then sort of push from the top, and most of the peel comes off; otherwise, it's messy and takes too long). The seed is most of the insides, but the flesh is one of the delicacies (I'm losing my English spelling) of life. The inside of the peel looks like a misshapen rosy golfball. The outside of the peel looks like a ladylike meteor.

Cheap, too: 2.95 Euros per kilo.

What will be next, I wonder? Off to sleep and more reading of actor Rupert Everett's autobiography (NOT highly recommended; trashy; he's one of my weaknesses, notably in PBS's "Sherlock Holmes"). Fantasy plays a far smaller role than it once did, but Rupert, Alan (Rickman) and one or two others do turn my eye.