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We have exchanged foods with our neighbor landlady's family. I sent over some fresh baked cinnamon rolls a week ago Sunday. The next day she sent a steaming plate of Tamales Dulces de Elote.
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This past Sunday, as Susie and I were contemplating which (tasty) leftovers to eat for lunch, her son arrived with a plate full of Mole Rojo de Codorniz con Arroz. (Quail in red mole with rice.)
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Yesterday I made a cross-cultural, cheese and potato stuffed breads; somewhere between potato and cheese knishes and Georgian (former Soviet Union Georgia) khachapuri.
I may want to slow down this exchange a bit, as I don't want to strain anyone's time and resources.
One of the best things about living out here is the tranquility and the friendliness of the neighbors. Friendly but not inquisitive. I have to remind myself from time to time to get up from the computer and go outside for a walk, even a short one. The walls of the houses and their gardens are glorious with flowers, and the surroundings of fertile valley and mountains, marked by rough walls of volcanic stones, is a deeply fulfilling vision.
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