Just Out of Hospital - Had My Feminine Side Amputated.

I never really had a feminine side, and visitors to my house, which I hasten to say is clean, very often stand awestruck at the general mess and chaos of a man living on his own.

Feminine sides are not much appreciared her in rural Poland (except in women), who tend to be slim, elegant, and beautful. Men are expected to be men and eat like heroes. We have impressive bellies.

At a typical lunch, the hostess, if you are a man, will pile your plate four or five inches high with meat, potatoes, raw vegetables and so on. She will say, "Smacznego!" meaning that she hopes everyone will enjoy eating.

The women pick at their tiny helpings while the men eat like mediaeval Bishops.

When you can at last see the bottom of your plate, and are thinking about coffee, or a brisk walk, the following will ensue:

Lady:   You must have some more!

You:    (with difficulty, having ingested enough to seriously disable a shark) Gladly, but I really can't. It was a revelation, but I'm full.

Lady:   Ah! (face racked with disappointment - needs to be seen to be believed) So you didn't like it.

You:     It was wonderful, but I really couldn't eat anymore.

Lady:    (with determination) But you are a MAN! Please...

And you get a second helping large as the first.

Da Capo.

I'm not complaining. Polish food ranks with French, Italian, Spanish, or Greek. The quantities are, however, epic.