* (unless you have mafia contacts) *
Not mafia, Nasty, medio !!
It's mushroon season!
In the fall, about 8 years ago, there was a terrible problem with the mushrooms around Moscow: 75 people died from eating them. No one ever figured out what happened --- isotopes, molds, martians, not a clue, This mushroom problem became the talk of the town, taking the place of the stale August news about the pouch.
Landing in Almaty, the troubles with the mushrooms of Moscow was about the only conversation as my friends drove me to lunch at Medio, the ice skating rink overlooking Almaty --- fed by the purest water from the mountains that surround the city, the ice skating rink upon whose surface almost every speed skating record in the world has been set. (The Almatians say: "no friction!")
Anyway --- a waitress brought the menu. I'll never forget her name --- she had (uncharacteristically for a Soviet waitress) a tag on her jumper that identified her as "NATASHA."
One by one, each of my hosts ordered one or another thing from the menu, to which order Natasha would reply, "Nyet!" Anything anyone ordered: "Nyet!"
Finally, I took it in hand and demonstrated some good ole Yankee TCB. "Natasha!," I said. "What is it that you DO have?!"
After a moment of deep thought, she answered: "Mushrooms."
A sigh rose from the belly of the table ---
I recovered quickly though, and said, "Natasha.... the mushrooms, they're OK?
To which she replied, even quicker:
"But no one has returned to complain."
Well, here we go again --- off to Kazakhstan tomorrow afternoon. Gonna walk through the fields of my love --- oil this time, not flowers, though in these climes you cannot be sure.
See you in a week --- unless, of course, I post from Medio!!
bye,
/k1b0 |
