I like this take on it; anyone screaming about the sanctity of marriage needs to whip out their sanctimeter at the local administrative offices and make sure all marriage license applicants measure up. Or just butt out.

1/2 cup (1 stick, 110g) unsalted butter
3/4 cup (158g) sugar
1/2 cup fresh lime juice (4 medium limes’ worth)
2 limes’ worth of finely grated peel
Pinch of salt
5 large egg yolks

Place fine strainer over a bowl glass bowl. Melt butter in heavy saucepan over medium-low heat. Remove from heat. Add sugar, lime juice, lime peel, and salt; whisk to blend. Add yolks and whisk until smooth. Return saucepan to medium heat and whisk constantly until curd thickens and is steaming pretty heavily (do not boil), 10 to 12 minutes. Epicurious says to heat it to 160°F as measured with an instant-read thermometer, but I didn’t bother with that. Steaming heavily for a few minutes after thickening but before a boil develops was good enough for me. Pour curd into prepared strainer; discard solids in strainer. I don’t bother with this step when I’m making my lemon curd, but I have to admit, the cooked lime zest shreds looked kind of gross, so I’m glad I did it this way this time. They tasted pretty awesome, though; maybe I’ll leave them in next time. The curd will thicken some more as it cools; then you can spoon or scrape it into a jar. Chill overnight. DO AHEAD: Can be made 1 week ahead. Cover and keep chilled.

So I stopped following the directions and started tweaking.

I got this recipe from epicurious, but I’ll post what I did below.

Shortbread Crust Ingredients
3/4 c cold butter, cut into 1/2 inch pieces
2 c flour
1/2 c light brown sugar, packed
1/2 t salt

Preheat oven to 350°F (176°C). Put all ingredients in a food processor and run on medium until mixture begins to form small, pea-sized lumps. Pour mixture into 9×13 baking dish and press evenly onto bottom (a metal spatula is good for this – don’t use your hands! It’ll melt the butter and throw off the texture of the shortbread). Bake shortbread on middle rack for 20 minutes and prepare the lemon mixture.

Lemon Curd Topping
4 large eggs
1 c sugar
3/4 c lemon juice
1 T lemon zest (2 large lemons)
1/3 c flour

In a large bowl, whisk together eggs and sugar. Add lemon juice, zest and flour and stir until just combined. Pour over hot shortbread base and carefully return pan to oven, turning temperature down to 300°F (149°C). Bake for 30 minutes, or until just set in the middle. Allow to cool completely (preferably overnight), then dust lightly with powdered sugar.

*only Sarah’s in-laws raise their hands*

That’s what I thought. Well, if you want some fiber and something rich and spicy, eat this. I used this recipe as a guideline and for the cooking method, which turned out to be stellar. Below are my actual steps.

1 1/2 c dry lentils (I used brown, the posted link suggests black caviar lentils)
1 T vegetable oil
1/4 t hing or asafoetida powder
1 medium onion, chopped fine
2 cloves garlic, pressed or minced
1 thumb-sized piece of ginger, finely diced or cut into matchsticks
2 green Thai chilies, chopped (optional – remove seeds for less heat)
1 1/2 t cayenne pepper
1/2 t curry powder
1/2 t salt
fresh ground black pepper to taste
1 small can tomato sauce (6 oz. or 200 g)
1 c vegetable broth
2 T butter

In a deep pot, cover lentils with water by 2 inches, bring to a boil and reduce to simmer for 10 minutes. While lentils are cooking, heat oil in a small skillet to medium. Add hing to oil and fry, stirring for one minute, then add onion, garlic, ginger and chili to oil, stirring frequently. When onion just becomes translucent, add cayenne pepper, curry powder, salt and pepper to onion mixture and stir until well distributed. Cook for one more minute, then remove from heat and set aside.

Drain lentils and return to pot. Add cooked onion mixture, tomato sauce, vegetable broth and butter. Bring lentils to a simmer and cook for an hour over low heat until thick and creamy, adding broth as needed. To improve texture, mash lentils occasionally with the back of a spatula while cooking. If desired, stir in a tablespoon or two of cream after cooking. Serve with naan, rice or alone.

A New York Times article from September 12, 1938, which I found on technoccult.com

We most certainly are not.  We are a country of individuals, who are guaranteed the freedom to decide for ourselves how, when, and whether to worship.

Beck, a hero to many conservative voters across the country, said, however, that the rally is nonpolitical and its mission is to honor American troops.

Well, then he’s lying on two counts. Honoring troops would include respecting the separation of church and state, that prized principle which used to make such a strong distinction between countries like the U.S.A. and Iran. By stating that we are a country of God, Beck has thumbed his nose at all those troops who thought they were fighting to defend and preserve our separation of church and state. And you can’t tell me in the same breath that a rally at which you say “America today begins to turn back to God” is nonpolitical.

“It was not my intention to select 8-28 because of the Martin Luther King tie. It is the day he made that speech. I had no idea until I announced it,” Beck said on his radio show in June, soon after the announcement of the rally.
“Whites don’t own Abraham Lincoln. Blacks don’t own Martin Luther King. Those are American icons, American ideas, and we should just talk about character, and that’s really what this event is about. It’s about honoring character,” Beck said.

Wouldn’t honoring Dr. King’s character also necessarily mean knowing enough about the man and the movement to realize that you can’t honestly claim not to have known the significance of your own rally’s ostensibly randomly chosen date? Either you dishonor his character by not knowing enough about him to not hold your own rally on that day, in that place, or you dishonor his character by proclaiming your ignorance.

Or just come clean and admit that you’re actively trying to detract from the significance of the “I Have a Dream” rally by having your own Bullshit Party on the same day. I would have a lot more respect for that honesty.

Politics are not the reason that we moved away from the U.S., but they sure are a contributing factor toward not moving back.

Thanks a lot to the Malge for the tip about www.cooliris.com.

When my sister picked us up at the airport, we got to choose between Indian and Middle Eastern cuisine for dinner out. She lives in Dearborn, so for me the choice was obvious.

We went to Al-Ameer and feasted on Hummus, Baba Ghanouche, Falafel, Fattoush, Grape Leaves, Lamb Shawarma, Chicken Shawarma, Ghallaba, and a new favorite: Hot Sujuk. My mouth is watering just writing these out, because it reminds me that I have leftovers for breakfast.

I took a listen to some of their earlier stuff after falling out of my chair sampling their album Release Me, and it didn’t appeal to me as much. It would seem Mark Ronson's and Dap-Kings' influence on their sound is a really, really good thing.

I like the sound of bands like The Cyrkle and early Who. The Rubber Souly, mid-60s, not-quite-Strawberry-Alarm-Clock sound is a good fit for a retro girl-group act like theirs.

Here’s the first track which attracted me to them:

But how did those people in the video steal all my dance moves?

And an acoustic double-header:

Made in America, by Bill Bryson:

As early as 1955, the phenomenon was noticed by the writer A.C. Spectorsky, who coined the term exurbia for this new kind of community that was emotionally and economically independent from the metropolis that had spawned it, but it was not until 1991, when a Washington Post reporter named Joel Garreau wrote a book called Edge City, that this vast transition in linving patterns gained widespread notice.

To qualify as an edge city by Garreau’s definition, a community must have 5 million square feet of office space, 600,000 square feet of shopping, and more people working there than living there. America now has more than 200 edge cities. Los Angeles and New York have about two dozen each. Almost all have been created since 1960, and almost always they are soulless, impersonal places, unfocused collections of shopping malls and office complexes that are ruthlessly unsympathetic to non-motorists. Many have no pavements or pedestrian crossings, and only rarely do they offer any but the most skeletal public transport links to the nearby metropolis, effectively denying job opportunities to many of those left behind in the declining inner cities. About one-third of all Americans now live in edge cities, and up to two-thirds of American work in them. They are substantial places, and yet most people outside their immediate areas have never heard of them.

Whoa.

Is it really as depressing as all that? Certainly not for us, because of our friends and family and memories there. But for those looking to make a fresh start there, I imagine this description is a pretty good deterrent. What do you think?

Also, for the plane trip, I’m trying to get one of those EmPower adapter thingies (and trying to get seats with a port like that reserved, but I can’t check in until Monday at the earliest). Does anyone have one of those already? Where did you get yours? I’m a little behind the game here — can’t get it purchased online in time for our flight, and there’s probably not time for me to shop for one between now and our departure. Amazon.de is showing a price of about €4, but Amazon.com wants at least $9.99. Yikes.

The first impression the apartment makes is a good one — just like the pictures she’d sent us via email upon our request. But that’s about where the satisfaction stopped.

We saw short and curlies in the tub greeting us upon our arrival (so they couldn’t have been ours…). The WLAN connection was extremely weak — so unreliable that it really shouldn’t be counted as an amenity. The bed — something typical from IKEA — would have been fine, had it had a normal mattress. I suspect it was Jaren. This was the hardest surface I have ever paid to sleep on.

Speaking of paying — when you book accommodations somewhere, do you expect to pay by day or by night? The Volksboutique Microresidence charged us by the day:

1. arrival late Thursday night (as planned and communicated well in advance)
2. Friday
3. Saturday
4. check out Sunday

…at 40€ per day, not per night, that meant 160€. Well, the price was still pretty good (by normal accouting it would work out to 53€ per night for Thursday night to Sunday morning), so we didn’t complain about that part.

When I found the door to the “tea kitchen” padlocked shut though, I managed to send her an email inquiring and the response was

I’m sorry for the misunderstanding…and that I forgot that was still listed in the Berlin Scholars posting. A small kitchenette is planned, but we’ve had so many guests that I haven’t been able to install it! I had been making interested parties aware of this fact, but in reviewing our correspondence, I realize I forgot to address it with you both. My apologies. I hope your stay is enjoyable all the same.

A place to eat donuts or something and have coffee in morning and — especially during the heat wave they’d been having in Northern Germany at the time — keep some cool bottled water at the ready was a big part of the reason we opted for a vacation apartment instead of a hotel stay.

Unfortunately, that’s not all that was wrong. The tub didn’t drain properly, so soap and shampoo scum (and aforementioned hairs) always await the next user. The bathroom had some bare wiring in place of a lamp over the mirror.

The price would have been great had it not been for all the the above points. The area is trendy and there is good access via the M2 tram line.

But I will be looking elsewhere for our next Berlin trip.

Ingredients
1 1/2 c flour
1 t baking powder
1/4 t salt
3/4 t + 1/4 pumpkin pie spice*
1 c unsalted butter, room temperature
1 c + 1 T sugar
3 eggs
1 t vanilla
6-8 plums, sliced into eighths

Preheat oven to 350°F (175°C). Line bottom of an 8-9 inch springform pan with baking parchment and grease sides. Sift together dry ingredients and set aside. Cream together butter and sugar in mixer until light and fluffy. Add eggs and vanilla and mix until just combined. Mix in dry ingredients in 4-6 additions, scraping sides with a rubber spatula as needed. Spread batter into springform pan – batter will be thick. Arrange plum slices, pressing lightly into batter surface. Mix together remaining pumpkin pie spice and sugar and sprinkle over plums. Bake for 50-55 minutes.

After baking, remove cake from oven and allow cake to rest for 15 minutes on a cooling rack. Take off springform ring and allow cake to cool for another 15 minutes.

*Don’t have any pumpkin pie spice? You can make it pretty easily: 2 T cinnamon, 2 T ginger, 1 T nutmeg and 1 t allspice. Put it all in an airtight container, shake it up and use it liberally.

This involves spices that aren’t necessarily pantry staples. If you make your own curry pastes, though, you will use these at a pretty good clip. Look at an Asian market for some of the odder ones.

Toasting Spices
1 t fenugreek, whole
1 t fennel, whole
1 t cumin, whole
1 t black peppercorns, whole
1 t coriander, whole

Other Paste Ingredients
2 cloves garlic
fresh ginger, peeled thumb-sized piece
2 fresh green Thai chilies
1 T turmeric
1/2 t cayenne pepper
1/2 t salt
1 T coconut milk
2 T groundnut oil (I use peanut)
equal amounts fresh cilantro and mint (about 3/4 c loosely packed of each should do)

Toast the whole spices in a skillet over medium-low heat until fragrant and slightly browned (watch the fenugreek, it’s usually yellow). Remove from heat and set aside to cool. When cooled, put them through a spice grinder or a strong food processor. Combine toasted spices and all the other ingredients in a food processor and blend to a smooth paste (you can drizzle in a little more oil if mixture seizes). If you’re not using the paste right away, put it in an airtight container and keep refrigerated for up to one week.

Curry Sauce
1-2 T ghee or vegetable oil
1 large onion, coarsely chopped
1/4 t asafoetida or hing powder
2/3 lb boneless, skinless chicken, cut into bite size pieces
1 recipe Nilgiri paste
2 c plain yogurt
1 can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
pinch sugar

In a Dutch oven, heat ghee or oil over medium high. Add onion and hing and cook, stirring frequently until onion is starting to turn transparent. Add chicken and cook, stirring frequently for 3-5 minutes, then add paste. Stir to distribute paste and cook for 1-2 minutes. Pour in yogurt and chickpeas and stir well, then lower heat to low and simmer for 15-20 minutes. If any bitter flavors occur, add pinch of sugar. Serve hot with rice or naan.

A. Everyone who wrote a pop/rock hit you’ve heard, apparently.

So, uh…where’s Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’? Oh, here it is:

Normally children singing ranks up there with nails on chalkboards for me, but this chorus is really something special.

Dang, these look nice, but it’s a little too short notice or the wrong travel dates for us.  It’s valid for travel July 12th through August 31st, but you’ve got to buy today or tomorrow.  Some old favorites (London, Nice) and new places (Spain, Sardinia) still on our discovery list are available from Nürnberg and München.

Compare to Christopher Walken’s rendition:

The original Knights of Cydonia by Muse (this song rocks):

…and this outstanding one-man a cappella cover of it:

For this last one, be sure check out the original first, if you don’t already know it (and everyone in Germany, if not Europe, already does, since it’s the Eurovision 2010 contest winner):

I like this guy’s version so much better! Also, he’s got better moves than she does.

The Regensburger Gothic Treffen is about to get underway. Guess where they’re hanging out?

Größere Kartenansicht

The border crossing into Slovenia –back into the EU — was merely a smile and a wave on through. It was just a few hours to our last overnight venue on this trip: Hotel Friuli, which seemed incredibly looming and nearly empty, after having stayed at the small hotels in Zagreb and Rovinj and the large, but full, Habsburg Getaway Joint in Opatija.

Udine looked like a good place to go walk around and have a drink. So we did. I tried something new: an Aperol sour. I liked it so much that a bottle of it made its way home with us (more on that later). For dinner, S&J whipped out their really nifty regional Italian cuisine reference book and I think everyone managed to try something new. Nice food, reasonably priced, in a very casual atmosphere on the edge of the Udine Altstadt. Think Flingers or Tchotchke’s, but without all the flair.

The next day — our last — we drove to a nearby town for lunch, but couldn’t properly find our way out of Udine (blame the driver, the GPS, and Italian infrastructure in equal parts), couldn’t find the recommended restaurant once we got there, and really couldn’t see the point of sticking around there once we gave up looking for it. So we just came back to Udine, sought out lunch there (nice pizzas), took a few pictures, and then did the most important part of the Italian leg of the trip: the supermarket visit. We finally put that cooler to use with meat and cheese transportation home to Germany: some wonderful truffle salami and a nine-pound wedge of Grana Padano. OK, not really nine pounds, but at those prices, we could have bought that much. We also stocked up on olive oil (three varieties) and wine (one red, one white) and a nice big bottle of Aperol. Jul and Scott also made use of their cooler and it became clear that our rental car upgrade from Focus-class wagon to whatever class the Mazda 5, with its ample trunk room and dual sliding doors, was a good move. And that we seemed to have a considerable amount of luggage with us.

The ride home was pretty uneventful. Thanks to the speed limitless stretches of Autobahn, we dropped J&S off, jetted home to Regensburg, unloaded the car, gassed it up, and dropped it off, precisely one minute before it was due.

Courtesy of the Woot Blog.

This was a great find by our traveling buddy Jul for our Istrian Road Trip. We were a little disoriented upon arrival — the Altstadt confused us, and our GPS, and we were unsure parking in the big city lot outside the the old town was a good idea or not.

But it all worked out for the best. The location is ideal. The price was reasonable. The staff was extremely helpful and friendly, and never steered us wrong with recommendations for gelato or restaurant meals. We had a nice breakfast in the main area, just around the corner (≤10 second walk) from our rental apartment and were charmed by the apartment’s old-world, multi-level design (kitchen and one bath on the ground floor, loft bedroom up the right-side staircase, 2nd bedroom and bathroom up the left-side staircase).

I’d stay there again in a minute.

380 to 414g (2 3/4 to 3 cups) all-purpose flour (German type 550)
3/8 t instant yeast
470ml (a little less than 2 cups) warm water (70-90°F, 22-32°C)
3/4 t sugar
3/4 t salt
3 T extra virgin olive oil
4 T fresh rosemary
at least 12 cloves garlic, roasted in olive oil until soft and lightly brown
1 t large flake sea salt, optional

1. In the mixer bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, combine 2 3/4 cups flour and yeast.
2. With the mixer running on low, gradually add the water and mix until the dough comes together, about 3 minutes.
3. Increase the speed to medium and beat until dough thickens a bit and is very smooth. Add extra flour a few tablespoons at a time if needed until a bit stiffer but still a very runny dough resembling melted mozzarella.
4. Add sugar and salt and beat until just incorporated.
5. Spray or oil a large stainless steel bowl and scrape the dough into bowl. Lightly spray the top of the dough and cover with a towel. Allow the dough to rest about 2-3 hours in a warm place. It may grow in size, but ours didn’t much, and it was still yummy.
6. Coat a 12×17-inch sheet pan with a heaping tablespoon of olive oil. Pour the dough out onto the sheet pan and coat your hands with some of the remaining olive oil. Spread the dough as thinly as possible without tearing it.
7. Let it relax for 10 minutes and continue until the dough fills up most of the pan. Let it sit about another hour to see if it rises. And maybe it won’t at all, but that’s OK too.
8. Preheat oven to 475°F / 246°C.
9. Place the whole cloves of roasted garlic into the dough, and tuck fresh rosemary leaves partway into the dough (to keep them anchored), and then sprinkle the salt, if desired. Place the pan on the lowest shelf in the oven preferably directly on top of a hot pizza stone.
10. Bake 13-16 minutes or until the top is golden brown. Remove from the oven and serve almost immediately. Make sure hot oil doesn’t drip from the pan out onto your besandaled foot and cause your wife alarm as you shriek like a little girl.

Größere Kartenansicht

But try as we might, we couldn’t get onto the highway in Opatija. I suspect this was a combination of several factors:

• Roads in Opatija were all in good shape — even up in the hilly residential areas — so they might have been newer than our GPS. The road we were trying to get on might not have been a limited-access highway at that point along the coast in the recent past.
• It was giving us instructions like “turn right in 20 meters” at places where there were 2 or 3 different possible right turns. As a result, there was a lot of back-tracking and hanging of u-turns.
• I tended to follow the GPS’ instructions more than the local signage, based on successes thus far, and this proved to be unreliable for getting out of Opatija, at least.

So we eventually gave up and just looked for signs pointing to Pula and ended up taking the long(er) way there along the coast. It was a nice drive up and down the hills along the shore.

We got to Pula and drove past the place for lunch. We still managed to get there a little bit ahead of our reservation, but therefore didn’t have time for much more than a stroll around the marina area. Lunch turned out to be a glorious four-hour affair, with a combination of prix-fixe menus for the omnivores and on-the-fly, yet perfectly coordinated à la carte options for those in our party with more detailed requirements. The service and presentation were both impeccable. I only had one glass of a local prosecco, right at the start as an aperitif, being the driver, but I wish I’d had more — the local wines were great. There was a big emphasis on wild asparagus in all the courses — in a risotto; in a little scrambled eggs tasting dish; in a cool, spreadable paste. Really yummy stuff in terms of flavor and texture. Desserts were equally exciting: red wine ice cream with fig cream (Sarah), a polenta/honey/cream parfait (Scott and I), fennel ice cream with a chocolate soufflé (Jul…and that would have been my second choice). This meal was certainly an experience all its own.

Eventually we got to Rovinj without incident and were a little confused by the gates to the old town and the parking lots just outside it. Our GPS led us pretty much right to the Casa Garzotto, but for the last few meters where the names of the streets became unclear. We checked in there, got the keys to the apartment around the corner we’d rented and got moving, exploring the old town and the seaside at dusk. I was squirrelly about handing over the key to the rental car, so the hotel’s porter Steve (that’s how he introduced himself) could move it to a parking spot elsewhere in Rovinj — but in the end, I found out it didn’t matter much because they didn’t have a reserved parking spot available for our car anyway (they expected their parking connection would find one eventually, but I guess he never did). So we left it in the public lot overnight and Casa Garzotto picked up the tab the next day when we were ready to depart Rovinj. Steve and I guided the car through the city gates into the old town, and then he expertly loaded our stuff back in — much better than we ourselves had done — and shepherded us back out of the old town via his Razor.

Suffice it to say that Rovinj has just about all the charm and friendliness you could imagine, whether marveling at the ancient apartment buildings, sharing a bottle of wine on the rocks with friends (and fairly bold fiddler crabs) as the sun goes down, taking a mid-morning coffee break on a veranda over the clear blue harbor and under the clear blue sky, or strolling the edge of the old town in search of lunch or gelato.

View Larger Map

We were working on kind of a last-minute schedule, so the selection of available hotels/apartments was limited. Sarah found us two rooms for two nights at the Hotel Imperial, on the main drag in Opatija, Maršala Tita, just across the street from the Adriatic. Sounds great, doesn’t it? Then we learned from some tour-guide materials at the local tourist office (or perhaps it was Scott’s own independent research?) that it really was from the Austro-Hungarian Empire area — and it seemed like the whole area was set up as a resort complex and infrastructure supporting it for Austrian nobility. No real surprise then, that Croatia became the resort of choice for communist leaders after World War II. Aside from the WLAN in the lobby area, it appeared to be in those conditions still (though we could see it would take a lot of money, but it would be a glorious hotel if someone were to make the investment to restore and modernize it). I wonder if shower curtains were a symbol of bourgeois capitalist scum? Neither the Zurikas’ room nor ours were equipped with them, though there were rings and hooks and things.

Weather still wasn’t great here (until our last evening and morning there, on which these pictures were taken), but we did at least manage to avoid the rain occasionally. We got our amusement from a terribly bad restaurant we considered, and then rejected, after discarding a suggestion Sarah or Jul or someone had found online, and then, in the end, decided to patronize after all — which was a mistake. (You can see I was pretty uninvolved with the planning — I just did the driving). Fortunately, after that we learned our lesson and paid more attention to the recommendations and had much better luck, especially once we got to Rovinj.

We took a 10km walk along the seaside partially in the rain. It’s paved the whole way. Maybe the on-again, off-again rain was a blessing, because I can see how that path would be glorious in good weather, and clogged with all kinds of tourists. Our destination on the walk was Lovran, and lunch at the Bellavista restaurant. I got about 500g of squid. At the bad restaurant the night before, I had already had fried calamari, so this time I tried it grilled. I didn’t do the math on that one; I should have figured that “grilled” meant “whole.” It was good, but there was an awful lot of it. And the flavor was nice, even if the texture was rubberier than deep-fried.

The little town of Lovran was cute and a fair indicator of what was awaiting us on the next leg of the trip in Rovinj.

Roman Virdi has some really nice shots of Opatija here, some of which must have come from our hotel as well.

Here’s the Opatija segment slideshow:

Größere Kartenansicht

• Lights on in the rain, else potential 150€ fine (tip from border dude between SLO and HR).
• Steel-faced border crossing between Slovenia and Croatia. Not very friendly. Does that matter? Another stamp in the passports, at long as they’re still a candidate country.
• About 7.25 kuna to the Euro at time of writing. Food seems cheaper (restaurant pricing) but retail clothing doesn’t (much) – at least based on window shopping.
• One-way tram ride costs about a € for one zone. It’s a good 15-20 minute tram ride into downtown Zagreb from Jarun.
• If you have a one-way paper ticket, look for the ticket-stamper machine in the front car of the tram. Seems most people travel on passes or other magnetic-read tickets.
• Hotel Jarun is clean and new and well-equiped. Nice techy stuff like big TV and free WLAN (not that we used either much due to being exhausted upon arrival last night after dinner and exploring). Generous shower, decent breakfast offerings.
• Old town seems cute, mix of old and well-maintained and obviously new-but-made-to-look-old or newly-restored buildings.
• Don’t like not having a book; our rentention of basic phrases from a podcast J+S brought was miserable.

Here’s the Zagreb slide show:

I’m making a little bit more* of an effort with the language this time, thanks to a nifty Berlitz phrasebook from my parents. I think it has helped a lot with my pronunciation, too: I learned that I have been saying some things incorrectly since the beginning. Oops. And this is despite the fact that modernization has been tricking me. How? Well, view this post in Windows (XP or earlier) and take a look at the character between the a and i in the title. Does it look like an ‘s’ with a little comma below it? Or just a box? Odds are, it’s just a box (unless you’ve already installed the European Union Expansion Font Update). Boxes instead of proper characters are ugly, so while the rest of the Latin (more or less) alphabet world was getting their personal computing and desktop publishing and graphical design on with all the characters they needed for their languages, Romanian has not been patiently waiting for the s-comma and t-comma characters to become part of Unicode 3.0 standard, and for the biggest share of the computer-user market to support it. Instead, they by-and-largely just pressed on ahead, substituting ‘s’ and ‘t’ for ș and ț. Perhaps locals had to compromise — they wanted to use computers and had to settle for incorrect characters (or sometimes using t/s-cedilla substitutions, which are a little better, but still not correct).

What’s the big deal? Maybe nothing at all for native speakers who know what the words sound like, or kids who started learning to spell in the post-XP / Unicode 3 world. But I sound like a schmuck ordering “mamaliguta” instead of “mamaliguța” and “papanasi” instead of “papanași.” But after living in Bavaria for six years, I know a șnițel when I see one — no matter how it’s spelled.

*Zero plus 10% still isn’t very much.