She gave me the finger

Kellton and Astoria preview a restaurant's menu
on our street that serves rabbit, rabbit and rabbit.

Every Tuesday is a day jam packed.  After getting the kids to school, I make a hearty snack for Sparkle.  So I prepare various things to go with cut up fruit:  banana bread, lemon bars, chocolate cookies, zucchini chocolate cake, or whatever else I can manage not to ruin due to the altitude and my finicky gas oven (which is about the size of a doll house oven).

After a few months of racing home after school for lunch with the kids, cramming homework, and then loading up food for 50 and kiddos in a taxi, I figured out that if I paid roughly $3 more, we could walk to a restaurant and have lunch close the kids' school, where Sparkle also happens. We save 16 Bolivianos in taxi fares and don't have to rush getting home, eating lunch only to go back again to school.

When I say lunch, I mean Bolivian almuerzo.  It's really closer to what North Americans think of as dinner.  This means fresh squeezed maracuyá  (passion fruit) juice, a salad bar, hearty soup, and main entree for three people, which comes to roughly $9US, and this included a generous tip.  I love our Tuesday routines at the restaurant Pan Y Mas.  The food is home cooked goodness and my kids are fanatical about the owner, Christie's, soup.

Every week we get to know Christie a bit better, and she gives a lot of attention to my kids especially as they are such big fans of her cooking.  But last week, she gave me the finger, a special treat pulled up by my spoon.  I took no offence, but couldn't help but clandestinely snap a quick photo. Just another moment when I remember we're not in Montana anymore.

Not your normal lunchtime chicken fingers