Much to the relief of Polish people everywhere, She Who Must Be Taken Along on Research Trips To Make Sure I Don't End Up In A Turkish Prison Somewhere* and I are back in the good old U of K**.
And I have returned armed with dramatic information that many of you may not possess - eating too much cabbage makes your wee smell funny.
Now I've long been aware of Asparagus's dreadful effect on the stinkiness of one's wee, lets face it, it's scary the first time it happens, "AAAAAAAAAARGH! I'm rotting away from the inside!!!" but you soon get used to it. What I didn't know was that excessive consumption of boiled cabbage and sauerkraut*** has a similar effect. Oh, the smell's not the same, but it still makes for stinky wee.
Factor in eating way too much of that gloriously dark-red beetrooty borscht as well and you end up with pink pee. Stinky pink pee. As if your kidneys have packed their bags and sodded off somewhere healthier.
And I love borscht. I am now an official convert to borscht. In fact, I'm drinking some now, in a mug. On the last night of our stay in Krakow, She Who Must Be Dragged Round Foreign Supermarkets So That I Can Marvel At All The Weird Stuff You Don't Get At Home and I went on a spending spree in the local Polo. And came home with a suitcase groaning with packets of instant beetroot soup. Mmmm, borscht.
We tried to make it once, out of a Delia book and it was sodding dreadful. I mean nasty to the point of being cruelty to taste buds. The only way it could possibly be consumed was by chilling the hell out of it and adding a hefty measure of vodka. But the borscht in Poland is like unto the beetrooty nectar of the Gods.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go make some pink piddle.
* Well... Turkey, probably. I mean, you don't exactly get Turkish prisons anywhere else, do you? Unless they're like theme pubs. Then you'd be getting arrested and it'd be like, dude: groan. Not another Irish theme prison. All them bicycles on the walls, Guinness posters, and signposts to Cork and Limerick. We're in Thailand for God's Sake. Didn't come all the way over here smuggling crack cocaine to be banged up in an Irish prison. What's wrong with a bit of local culture, eh?
** Or what's left of it.
*** Which while made of cabbage is in a COMPLETELY different league when it comes to producing smells.
Labels: Book Number The Fifth, ramble, Stuff about me