love food. What I miss the most about living abroad is the street food. The closest thing in the U.S. are festivals. Vendors setup booth restaurants that make my mouth salivate. Piedmont Park hosted a Latin Festival, and I definitely came hungry! Unlike Americanized-Latin restaurants, these vendors cooked authentic kebobs and all sorts of food that I can’t spell or pronounce.
Piononos – Fried Plantain stuffed with meat (Pictured above)
I also had a Rellenos de Papa – fried mashed potato ball stuffed with meat – and a sweet pastry filled with cheese (name unknown).
My first hookah experience. If my mother is reading this, there was no nicotine in it. I’ve never tried hookah before, but I have always been curious. One of my friends with me at the festival lived in India for a few months and had spent hours smoking the hookah (Why does this sound like she’s on drugs?). I blame her for encouraging me to try. It makes you light-headed, but honestly, I didn’t see any real reasons to do it. The man working the booth probably thought I was an idiot as I kept asking, “What do I do?”
For other sheltered people: you put a tip on the end of the pipe, take a deep inhale breath and blow it out through your nose/mouth. Repeat.