for them while we were there were burritos, we all kind of laughed. Our
response, ‘Not a problem!’ Apparently about ten years ago, a friend from the
Peace Core came and made them chicken burritos, and since then, they have never
had them, nor forgotten them.
As our time in Moldova came to an end, our last day was
planned to treat them. We had a spa day for the ladies and a fishing day for
the men. That night on the menu, you guessed it. Burritos! Little did we know
what would happen as we planned. The day before our burrito night, we asked
Larissa, our host, to teach us to make tortillas. Our interpreter had told us
she knew how to make them, and was more than willing to teach us. So as Hollis
and I stood in the kitchen, Larissa working away in a bucket on the floor, we
figured she was making dough. This still seemed normal. Then as we made batches
to rise, still normal. It was next that made our eyebrows raise just a bit.
Hollis began to use a tea cup to cut circles out of the rolled tough, followed
by a smaller hole in the center. As I was heating oil in the skillet, my mind
seemed to click.
We are making donuts, not tortillas… But for the sake of
hospitality, we figured we had plenty of dough and this was a treat for us as
we relaxed this fine afternoon. Thing is, we didn’t’ really stop. Doughnut after
doughnut after doughnut… Quite possibly 75-100 were made. Turns out we made
tortillas, only they were Moldovan tortillas… also known as American doughnuts.
Despite our expanded stomachs, this did not stop our Mexican
night. Friday night at the last minute Nicole and I were called into the
kitchen to take over. Homemade tortillas were made, Mexican rice was pulled off
by spices I couldn’t read and using my cooking mind. The others made some
chicken and shredded it up. As dinner was served we had an amazing plate of
chicken, beans, Mexican rice, cheese, salsa, sour cream, and all held in our
homemade flour tortillas…. Can’t ask for much more if I do say so myself!
