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On The Seventh Day Breakfast was thin pancakes with two slices of bacon cooked into the middle. They even had reasonably priced peanut butter. But instead of chunky, Sharon called it grainy. It was like they hadn't blended it enough. In France it had been blended so much it was a drippy soupy mixture. I had no idea peanut butter was so tough to make. Girard dropped us off at the famous Beverwijk black market. It was the largest in Europe. They sold clothes from everywhere. Outrageously priced American clothes. Moderately priced Italian leather coats. Cheap socks, underwear, cosmetics, antiques, collector items. Restaurants from Greece, Turkey, Indonesia, Israel, China. Veggies and fruit from all over the world. Rows of ethnic food products and colourful spices in big bins that smelled great. Tiny made sucade lappen for supper. It was an extremely tender beef steak dipped in a mixture then slow cooked for five hours. It was so tender I could cut it with my fork. Tiny made heavenly cherry cheesecake. I decided: On the seventh day God didn't rest -- He created cheesecake. |
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