Does it come with potatos?

The lack of Prague – related posting lately can be attributed to my complete unenjoyment of the city during the dismal mitteleuropan winter. Living in an icebox may be fine for a dead cow, but is quite unpleasant for a poor, shivering Texan. Today’s weather featured gray skies, accompanied with some icy snow. The last few weeks have featured almost no precipitation, meaning the sidewalks were bare except for a few dog-shit infested piles of ice. I’ve enjoyed hopping over the frozen trails of dog piss, which are like little white snakes on an obstacle course. Fun! Something interesting did happen yesterday, though. On the way to work I stopped at the Novy Smichov mall to check out the food court and see if something looked edible. I spotted a new stall called ‘Marmara’, which implied western Turkish food, as the Sea of Marmara is the body of water between the Black Sea and the Med. Turkish food, much like the 2006 National Champion Texas Longhorns: Fantastic. As I arrived at the counter I was disappointed to see their only turkish offerings were Veal and Chicken Kebabs. There seemed to be some sort of broccoli covered in cheese and various other crappy-looking Czech dishes that didn’t look appealing at all. But the biggest problem was the lack of Turkish people behind the counter. I was very suspicious after noticing this omission of Anatolian goodness. With Mexican food, I try to avoid purchasing anything unless the cook is still wet from the Rio Grande. My service at the “Marmara” restaurant consisted of some old Czech woman who looked as though she hadn’t been employed in a long, long time. I ordered my lamb kebab and watched as she placed some crappy looking meat in some panini bread. After slopping some vegetables into the ‘sandwich’, she decided the ‘kebab’ wouldn’t actually fit in the nice paper wrapper, and promptly dumped the thing onto a plate fresh from IKEA. She stared at her creation with dismay, and resignedly sighed as she handed the pile to this poor foreigner. She wouldn’t make eye contact as she took my money. The lesson, as always, is that Czechs with vegetables should not be trusted. That is all.