young friend Lena from across the way - having thankfully escaped the clutches of the mullahs - is home for Christmas.
Not in time to partake of the pleasures of the Christmas Market in Mainz, of course. (I sometimes do worry about her lack of foresight and planning, but she's studying law so it probably won't be perceived as a serious constraint to success..)
But if there's anything that makes the Christmas Market worth visiting, it's potato pancakes with apple sauce.
So - at the request of her aged, grey-haired mother - I locked myself in the kitchen this week and slaved away for DAYS making copious quantities of apple sauce from my mate Tibor's apples.
And tonight - to the background of Putomayo's Turkish Groove CD - I conjoured up a batch of potato pancakes.
Better than the ones on the market, people reckoned.
I think they only said that because they wanted seconds...