Mango Salsa-Sunny Side Up


Last night I built a fort in our living room in which and my husband and I enjoyed a new breakfast recipe and a game of monopoly. Here is our new favorite twist on the morning bagel. 

Mango Salsa:

  • 1 Mango 
  • 1/2 jalapeno finely chopped (use more or less depending on your spice preference)
  • 1/2 cup red onion
  • 4 Tbs fresh cilantro
  • 4 Tbs lime juice 

Combine all ingredients in bowl, cover and chill in refrigerator. 

Basic Ingredients:

  • 1/2 of an Asiago bagel (Panera has great ones!)
  • 2 slices sharp cheddar cheese
  • 1 Egg
  • 1 Tbs butter
  • 2 tbs water

Put butter in the frying pan and turn on medium heat, melt butter and spread around pan. Place bagel in the pan, frying both sides until slightly crispy and golden brown on top. Remove from pan and place cheddar cheese on top (so as to melt it slightly.) Fry egg just slightly, then add Tbs water and cover with lid to steam to sunny side up perfection. When egg is full cooked place on top of bagel and cheese. Heavily garnish with mango salsa and viola!  

Picture to come soon :)

Next item to save for! Now that we’ve finished building our garden box and planted our veggies its time to turn our smelly garbage into food for our food. 

Available at http://www.uncommongoods.com/product/kitchen-composter

Next item to save for! Now that we’ve finished building our garden box and planted our veggies its time to turn our smelly garbage into food for our food. 

Available at http://www.uncommongoods.com/product/kitchen-composter

Loving this band at the moment!

  -Gungor “God is not a white Man” 

"God is not an old man, God does not belong to Republicans" .awesome.

"God is love" .awesome.and.true. 

(Source: youtube.com)

A Few Summer Goals

Finals on the Other Side


I won’t attempt to say that giving finals is harder than taking finals but I can’t help but think that part of the reason I have been shoveling dark chocolate covered raisins into my mouth for the last thirty minutes has something to do with the incomplete freshmen poetry test, my somewhat failed Great Gatsby review session, and a couple of seniors who won’t graduate high school if 3 Essay Questions turns out to be too much for them. I may have committed a run on sentence, but quite frankly I am not a teacher at this moment and in all honestly I’ve never mastered the rules of a true run on sentence.

The average test grade is my test grade. If someone has failed outside the realm of laziness (which I still end up feeling bad about) it inevitably reflects on me. I can tell myself that maybe they stayed up too late playing call of duty, maybe they got in a fight with their parents, or maybe English just really isn’t there thing but it won’t change the sinking feeling that I let somebody slip through the cracks.

There’s a verse that talks about loving your enemy’s because well even non-Christians love those who are kind to them, so basically to only love friends and family is nothing special (I’m paraphrasing of course.) It takes the Holy Spirit to go beyond and love those who persecute you. In a twisted way I guess thats how I feel when the kids who are naturally good at English pass the test, of course the passed, with or without me they would have past. It’s nothing special when a smart kid gets an A. My goal is to make those “English isn’t there thing” students into students who maybe don’t love English but find they are more than capable in the classroom. 

Today I reviewed with my juniors and seniors for their final. The juniors played my Great Gatsby version of the Dating Game and I sadly realized that my students solidly new 3 things about the characters - “Gatsby’s pimpin,” Daisy is always and only in it for the money, and Tom likes football. I just ate another chocolate covered raisin. So much for deep character analysis.

On the bright side one of my freshmen girls who really struggles with Language Arts has loved writing sonnets and willingly wrote one to help her process a friend’s death. Maybe I’ll put the chocolate away and save it for the day I turn my keys back into the school. 

I miss my country
I want to go back again
It is my hometown


It is very hot
But it is not hard to live
it is full of places


Haikus by one of my Cambodian foreign exchange students who speaks very limited English 
Creme Brulee filled Pistachio Macarons. Two of my favorites combined in one!  I don’t even know how to make Macarons let alone Creme Brulee filled ones, but I’m going to make it a summer goal none the less.
Recipe:http://www.tarteletteblog.com/2009/05/recipe-creme-brulee-pistachio-macarons.html

Creme Brulee filled Pistachio Macarons. Two of my favorites combined in one!  I don’t even know how to make Macarons let alone Creme Brulee filled ones, but I’m going to make it a summer goal none the less.

Recipe:http://www.tarteletteblog.com/2009/05/recipe-creme-brulee-pistachio-macarons.html

Cutest Pictures a Parent Could Take


One day…when I have cute little girls…I’m going to find a way to get pictures like this. 

(Source: ryannxp, via botchery)

Cesme

Cesme

The Allure of a Walk


            I find myself once again sitting in the red and cream snakeskin booths of mambo café. The walls are lined with some sort of cottage cheese wallpaper splattered with embossed silver coffee beans next to the words espresso and café. Lady Gaga’s “Alejandro” blares in the background while the screen on the wall adjacent to the booth shows off less than classy music videos awkwardly singing to a song no one can hear. I’m still not sure how I got so attached to this singular café, its shares the street with at least 15 other cafés on café row. Upon first arriving I thought I would perhaps settle in at the ironically named, “Save Our Souls Café” or that I would try a different café every day, but I must admit I feel like a traitor going anywhere else. I may not be a fan of the unrelenting Turkish techno and perhaps I wouldn’t have chosen pearly snakeskin for the decor, but it has captured my heart nonetheless.

            We don’t just have a café, in the course of 5 weeks our team has found itself a haircut man, a baklava man, a midya (mussels) man, a fruit man, a laundry lady, a karpuz man, a bread man, a dessert man, and the taxi drivers near our apartment know us well enough to know that we are probably on our way to Kucuk park. I love this. Truly I do. The closest I have ever come to this sort of lifestyle was in 6th grade when my mom would take me to Baskin Robbins and every day after school at 3:30 my mocha almond fudge kid scoop on a sugar cone would be waiting for me. If only it weren’t so hot here in Izmir, then I do believe I would walk each morning for a few fresh figs and warm loaf of bread. I hardly enjoy walking around in the unforgiving and apathetic heat, it cares nothing for my fatigue, but the evening walks tempt me to pack up my bags and move to a city where I can become a regular for some fruit and bread vender. The nights are something along the lines of seductive, the moon cradles us in the reflections of the sun, the leftovers of the searing and scorching day. It’s in the evening that I savor the songs of the city, the sights, sounds, and smells of a this far off land. The days are much too warm to savor such things, the sun blisters my conscience, I work up a sweat trying to think beyond “Jesus help me take the next few steps” or “Lord just a cool wind please.”  But the evenings, the evenings beckon me to a love that seems lost in the midday hours, the moon reminds me of the sun’s redemptive nature. I will miss the Turkish crescent.