And eggs. Don't forget the peppers to grind your own paprikas. (hanging from the ceiling)
I had a lovely time, and flirted with the butcher. I definitely have a thing for burly guys in white aprons holding a meat cleaver...
A blog about travel in central Europe, living overseas for the first time, adjusting to a different culture, food, "lost in translation" moments, parenting and "enjoying the ride". There will be an occasional rant about trying to learn Hungarian and the Hungarian postal service.
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