Whenever I travel with my friend Nick, we always wind up assuming nicknames drawn from our surroundings. In Turkey, he is Acili Ezme (a spicy, red pepper paste meze) and I am Ekmek Kadaif (a sweet syrup-soaked bread dessert.) In Paris, we can’t remember what Nick’s name was, but mine was Mimolette (a deep orange cheese.) And in Italy, where everything sounds so good in that most beautiful language on Earth, Nick is Uscita Sottopassagio (a sign in train stations indicating that the exit is via a tunnel under the tracks) and I am Svendita Totale (“Final Sale. Everything must go!”) It was a tough decision because of the many Italian options. I almost went with Caduta Massi (a highway sign indicating potential rock slides), mezzo-soprano.
Your blog is educational. My Turkish barber was impressed when I pointed to his scissors and said: "Ekmek Teknezi," the tools by which he earns his daily bread.
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