Dates

mmmm dates... my favorite Barhi dates are coming into season now.  I wonder if i can find them at the Boqueria?

I digress...  that's not the type of date i'm thinking of. 

Today is Once de Septiembre here in Catalunya - an independence holiday.  For me it's September 11th.  

11/9/12

9/11/12

I love when it's the 13th of the month, or later.  I know instantly that the 13+ number is the day.  Otherwise i stare at the date and think - is it November 9th or the 11th of September.  What further throws me off is that September should be the 7th month and November should be the 9th.  

Maybe it's just me.

What I've Learned In My 11 months 16 days in Barcelona

Interpreting Weather Forecasts - when it says 20% chance of rain, it'll rain REALLY REALLY hard if and when it does rain.

It was dry about 20 minutes before i took this picture - which was when I left the bar to start walking home.  I got home drenched to the bone.  (oh - maybe that's why i'm feverish today?)

Yet those days it says 60-80% chance of rain - I wear my (fabulous) Hunter rainboots and bright pink umbrella - there's nary a drop from the sky - and i feel silly.

 

Not That I Like Spanish Food Much Anyways... But Still.

I don't handle death too well.

Well, duh.  Who does?

But today's funeral was somewhat surreal for me.  As the foreigner, I only caught about 50% of the conversations.  Being a new (yet old) member of the Spanish family, I had very little context with most of my family here.

So I really felt like an outsider, even though my place was within the inner circle.  I couldn't quite grieve among the group.  I'd rather weep in private, maybe with a few people I'm close with... and then be among people.

Fortunately, I haven't been to many funerals.  They are always sad, and full of tears - which is to be expected.  Yet most have had a memorial type gathering after... Usually with lots warm hugs, consoling smiles, and homemade casseroles, pies, and all types of comfort foods. Maybe that's just the American way. 

Today's Jewish ceremony here in Spain was just the gathering at the mortuary, followed by the burial at the cemetery.  That was it.  Afterward, we all went our separate ways.  No flowers, no reception.  Maybe that comes later?  

I don't like cemeteries.
I don't like the ritual.
I don't like the concept.
I don't want to go to them, nor would I want anyone to ever feel obligated to go to one on my account.

First off - if I can be a donor, that's what I'd want this vessel that is housing my spirit to go to - science.  If I can't... well, I'd want to be cremated.  And maybe be buried with a sapling that will become some sort of tree.

Kinda like in that Jodie Foster movie "Little Foxes" - where that girl says she want's them to plant a pear tree, so that in future years, people can come by, have some fruit and say "she's tasting good this year".  Well, maybe that's kinda gross.  I'd prefer apricots.

Just as I don't like cemeteries - I just don't like maudlin & morose funerals.  Have some sort of informal gathering at some favorite place... with lots of yummy homemade comfort food.  Pile-on all that dairy I've been lamentably missing all these years.  (damn that lactose intolerance!).  And just share some stories, and reminisce.  Something relaxed and easygoing.  With hugs.  And tears.  And laughs. And smiles.  Pretend I'm in the room enjoying seeing all my friends and loved ones remembering me fondly.  Without the drama.

Rest in Peace, my dear tante Lisette.  I absolutely adored you.  I feel blessed that I got to know such a fabulous woman who lived an extraordinary life full of love, kindness and generosity.  I miss you tremendously.  I almost feel guilty that I didn't get that haircut you always wanted me to get.  Almost.  I still prefer my hair long.  x

They were just running around yesterday...

Shopping for food has been a huge adjustment for me.  Case in point:  chickens.  I've found some nice poultry vendors at the Mercat Galvany (Monica Avirum or something like that)... developing a rapport with the vendors is very important to me.  That's also the key to getting better service, or just learning more about what you're getting or what you can special order...

Here at Monica's, they carry lots of interesting poultry and prepared foods.  They also sell rabbit, which i'm still curious about.  I tried the "Cordoniz" which i'm not sure if it's a cornish hen or a poussin.  Actually, I'm not sure anymore if it was the Cordoniz that I got or the really tiny little guys at the bottom left of this picture here.

But their whole chicken is what I usually get... though i've been getting the "conventionally" raised birds rather than the organic or cage free birds that I prefer (on principle).  It's strange - in LA, when I'd get my chicken from Lily's Eggs (at the Hollywood or Santa Monica Farmers markets), they'd be 3-4 pounds each - small birds.  But here - the pasture raised hens are huge - like 6 pounds or so. 

But those pasture raised hens are like 18 Euros each - way too expensive.  That's like $25!  These birds pictured above are the conventional ones.  And they are very fresh - they were just alive and running around the day before!  They still have the heads attached and they have their innards.  So when you get a chicken from these market vendors - the people behind the counter provide full-service. 

 I wanted my chicken butterflied for this one recipe I was trying out.  So without hesitation, Jessica grabbed a chicken, lopped off the head, trimmed the feet, butterflied and gutted it... saving the gizzards and liver for me.  Even the cheap chicken is expensive and I'm not letting any of it go to waste. 

They also usually have carcasses available if you're looking to make stock or broth... but if there aren't any available, they'll just grab a chicken, remove the parts, clean out the interior, and in about a minute, you have a carcass with a good amount of meat to add extra flavor to your stock/soup.  I made lots of stock this year.  I wish I had a bigger stock pan - my biggest pot is pretty small... I could hardly get enough stock for one soup recipe.  The carcasses are pretty cheap - like a euro or 2... and they will toss in a handful of Italian parsley sprigs if you ask. 

Trying to embrace the food... key word: trying.

For those of you who know me, you know that I love good food. And here in Barcelona, I've been having a couple of hits, but plenty of misses. 

So I thought - maybe if I shift my perspective a bit, and start eating like a local, I might actually stumble upon something good.  Rather than getting frustrated that I can't find what I'm used to finding in that agricultural wonderland that is California... I should start playing with what's at hand. 

See these guys:

EUR 55,00 per Kilo!! most of which is shell and rock.

Percebes (aka Goose Barnacle).  I had never heard of them before, but I see them all the time at the Mercat Galvany.  They are these little tubular shellfish-y things that latch onto the undersides of rocks along some coastal parts of Spain & Portugal - where the waves come crashing in.  Very dangerous to harvest - hence the expensive price tag.  Some governing offices also want to ban this practice of harvesting due to the danger of the task.

Now I would never buy anything so expensive while clueless as to what to do with them.  Especially since I don't like shellfish all that much to begin with.  But my friend Patty (who's an incredibly good cook) served them up last week for her birthday dinner. 

You eat them cold, like crab legs (which she also served).  hold the little "goose barnacle" at one end and then you pinch just below the grey claw-like part and then pull the sleeve off.  what you're left with is the edible part - which is at most one inch long by a quarter inch in diameter - it's TINY.  And very SALTY. 

Worth the price tag?  I'll pass.  Give me lamb, foie, anything dreamed up by this man... I'll skip the percebes.  and the crab legs. 

My recent attempt at cooking with local flavor was a recipe given to me by one of my English students:  "Sepia estilo Vinaroz"- a Fisherman stew using Sepia (squid - larger than calamari - 1 kilo each), potatoes, toasted bread, and chocolate!!!???!!!  I'd learned how to clean calamari while working at Ludobites - but this sepia was too much to deal with.  I didn't enjoy preparing it.  The finished product was kinda odd - but I don't know if it's because I made it wrong, or that's just how it's supposed to taste. 

Have I had some good meals here?  yes.
And if you love seafood, cured pork products and potatoes, you'll love Spanish food.

As for veggie lovers like myself, well, I just need to get more inventive with what I see.

12 Grapes!

There are many curious customs that are celebrated here in Spain.  And guess who's gonna embrace them?  That's right, yours truly! 

Starting with the tradition of eating 12 grapes at midnight to ring in the New Year. 

No one I asked actually knew the origin of this curious tradition. They just all do it - for good luck.  At the stroke of midnight, you have to start popping those grapes, one at a time into your mouth - at 3-second intervals until they are all gone.  If you can finish the dozen before the end of the chimes, you will have good luck all year long. 

My aunt Lisette sent us a couple of little tin cans - each containing 13 peeled seedless grapes (a fruiter's dozen, perhaps?).  How is that not cheating???

For a first timer, this was a cinch - total piece of cake.  This was my first New Year's celebration in Spain, and while I was invited to a couple of celebrations - I kept it mellow and celebrated with my mum. Well, I had have a miserable cold which is still with me 3 days later.  Argh!

But imagine having to down 12 large tough-skinned grapes.  with seeds.  not so easy sounding.  One of the parties I was invited to had a minor choking incident... i'm not so sure it wasn't a girl trying to make it with the waiter. 

Mum & I toasted at midnight with a split and some strawberries

 So here's looking to a bright new year.  2011 was a tough year for many people.  Let's hope 2012 will be better. 

maybe 18 should read - "be kissed by a wonderful man, often."

Rather than make a list of lofty goals that may or may not be achieved, I spent about 10 minutes thinking of things that I'd hope to do this year.  No, I'm not going to change the world... just work within my space within the world - trying to make a few things better. 

In the Kitchen

My little Spanish kitchen is very different from all the kitchens I'm used to using at home.  Oops... this is home.  I mean back in L.A.

First off, my mother was never much of a cook, so the kitchen tools are seriously lacking.  All of my accumulated bake ware, mixing bowls, ramekins, wooden spoons, measuring devices, etc. have been left behind... some I put in storage, some I gave on indefinite loan to friends, some I just gave away.

How many times have I cursed myself out saying "damnit!  I wish I had my ______"? 

Secondly, some of what I would consider to be "staple pantry" ingredients are hard to find.   Brown/molasses sugar?  took me 3 weeks to find it.  Now I know of 2 locations that sell it.  Vanilla extract?  I'm not picky - I find that imitation vanilla works just as fine as the pure vanilla extracts... but just finding any liquid form vanilla extract is a challenge in itself.  My local walking distance markets don't sell it.  That's why when I found this bottle, I had to buy it, no questions asked.

as if this little bottle will last me into 2012?  yes, i got in the habit of dating my spices

After I bought it, I asked myself - would a label like this be considered acceptable in the USA nowadays?  I'll file this under "lost in translation".

Baking now requires extra planning.  Do I have the right sized pan?  If not, what kind of substitute can I use to make it work.  Ingredients - what do I have, what do I need, what have I not found yet, what can I use as a substitute for what I can't find.

If I'm ever gonna want to enjoy food here, I'm just gonna have to learn how to cook with what's available.  Who knows, I might like the new version better?

This is what I made today:  Smitten Kitchen's Jacked-up Banana Bread.  I sorta did a hybrid of her recipe with a technique I'd read about in Cook's Illustrated - regarding using overripe bananas that have been stored in the freezer, then cooking down the watery liquid into some thick, flavorful reduction... Amazing!

well, it tasted much better than it looks... damned lighting.

 

not much better in the photo department... just look at smitten kitchen's pictures - she's a pro. i'm using an iphone

 Speaking of photographing in the kitchen.  Some of my friends might be wondering why I'm not photographing my food as much anymore.  Well, for one thing, the lighting's all wrong.  The backdrop is rather hideous as well.  My Ridgeley apartment had decent light.  The Windsor house had amazing lighting, and a great backdrop - everything looked better there.  Same with the Dahl house.  Of course I took tons of food pictures there.

But here?

60's era harvest gold with an 'updated' granite countertop.

I love old kitchens.  I also enjoy some modern kitchens.  Sometimes updated kitchens can be tastefully done.  But a "modern" black speckled granite countertop in a 60's harvest yellow kitchen?????  If you are only changing one aspect of a kitchen, don't fight against what you're given - work with it - install some countertop that doesn't stick out like a sore thumb... Mind the context, please!  Oy.  And with the unflattering fluorescent lighting, and no natural light... well, I hope I've made my case. 

Alas, my favorite cheerful red and white cherry patterned oven mitts also don't fit in this kitchen.  My old tendency toward all things green and orange will work, however.  Too bad they're all in California.

Will this rain ever stop?  It is chucking buckets right now!  Maybe this is why I'm writing:  I have a sore case of cabin fever.

Heavy Metal

why?

It's hard to keep my jeans looking streamlined when I have so many coins in pocket.  Why are there so many different Euro cents? 

Having a 2 cent coin is absolutely ridiculous.  Abolish it. 

What's wrong with quarters?  4 of them get you a buck.  Why have 10 cent, 20 cent AND 50 cent coins?

I'll concede that the 1 Euro coin is a good idea, and that the US paper $1 bill could be phased out (I'm sure exotic dancers in the US would rejoice as this would probably lead to $5 minimum tips). 

2 Euro coin?  Fine, we can keep it. But it's not necessary.  It just makes your purse, or pocket so damned heavy after a while!  Meanwhile, waiting for your change to be dispensed is rather obnoxious - going through all those denominations of coins.  And watch out because they pinch pennies here and there (or more like dimes or, uh - what do they call 20 cent pieces?).

As for the different sizes of paper bills, I will say that's a great idea.  It's friendly to the blind... you can feel how large your paper bills are, and know that you're not being cheated when someone's giving you change. 

and the packing has begun...

well... it never really stopped.

Since I moved out of my last apartment back in March, I've been living out of 2 suitcases (and whatever I could fit in my car).  I took 2 suitcases with me to Barcelona - but never quite got settled there (*cough* uh, mom - care to make some space for me this time?)

I returned with 2 (lighter) suitcases, and re-filled them with clothes I'd left at my dad's.  Now I'm trying to re-pack those 2 suitcases for the return...  and decide what I'm gonna ship, and how I'm gonna ship what's left.  Funny how it's gotten easier to let go of stuff. 

I think I can fit everything I want on a pallet.  Though there is a box of clothes that I'd want sooner rather than the 6-10 weeks via air-sea packing. All this stuff that's for shipping is at my dad's.  I was there for a good 7 hours today.  He hardly said more than 5 sentences to me all day.  Didn't even ask me about my whole LudoBites adventure. 

Last week: 

Me:  Hey dad, I got a reservation at LudoBites on the closing night - for 4.  Mike & Veronica (my cousins) wanted to go - so I got a table for family! 
Dad: Oh, Saturday?  I had plans.  I just changed my trip to San Diego from yesterday to Saturday.  It's a good thing I changed it from yesterday because of that power outage.
Me: uh - you can't change it again?  This is the last chance.
Dad: ummm, no - it's ok.

Wow.  This thing that I was really proud of, and excited to be a part of just wasn't interesting enough for him.  San Diego isn't going anywhere... And he's known that I'm leaving on the 20th... does he ever call me?  It's ok, I can write about it - he won't read any of this.  He likes to say he cares about me, but in reality - his actions speak louder than words... oh wait - he doesn't even talk to me.  We're not fighting or anything - he's in his self-absorbed little world, and I'm just not a part of it. 

Poor Lisa, my whole inventory of stuff has exploded all over her living room floor.  Three days.  I feel like listening to some Jane's Addiction now.

Looking for a New Soundtrack.

I'm *really* in Europe...and I need a new soundtrack for my iPod to accompany my journey.

My classes start tomorrow, and in prep - I took a walk to school and back just to be sure I knew how to get there without getting lost.  Returning home, I zig-zagged my route just to acquaint myself with the 'hood.  That's when I looked up one of the streets and it sunk in:  I'm really in Europe... there is absolutely no street in Los Angeles that even looks remotely like any of this.  And I think I'm accepting it for what it is.

Before my mother moved to Spain, I gave her a couple of books.  Not so much as gifts, but as valuable tools to use.  The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron was given to me when I was going through a long, deep dark funk - and it helped me emerge from my cocoon. In return, I bought about a dozen copies of this book and passed it on to people I thought it could help.  Mom's copy hasn't been cracked open.  I don't blame her - it took me 2 years until I finally started working through mine... and I never got beyond chapter 8. (my copy is long missing as I loaned it to a friend, and it never made its way back to me, and I've been wishing I had it for over a year now)

The second book, also by Julia Cameron is one I was completely unfamiliar with - and maybe I didn't even give it to her at all - it just looks like something I'd have given her, considering the huge changes in her life at the time.  It's called Transitions.  I pulled this virgin copy off the bookshelf last week, and until last night, it sat on my bedside table ready to be ignored some more.

Until last night. I didn't get far into it, but it now has a crease and a dog-eared page.  Here's the segment that awakened me:

"Resistance solidifies grief.  We can allow our griefs to dissolve through releasing them to the healing rain of tears.  As we weep with loss, our spiritual landscape is made anew.  All change carries gain as well as loss.  As I release situations which have troubled me, I release, too, my identity as troubled.  This shift brings with it intense emotion.  Grief is the natural and healing companion of loss.  Embraced and surrendered to, grief creates transformations. 

 "Today, I do not deny my feelings of loss.  I allow myself to move through them to new growth."

Today, I finally walked through the streets and felt the newness of my journey.  I was alert, awake and ready for change.

No headphones in my ears (headphones = do not disturb) - just the sounds of the still-quiet Easter Monday street scape.  I've also determined that Easter Monday is the day that zombie jesus hangs out eating chocolate with all his peeps. 

When I returned home (that was a 5km journey) I sat down and contemplated what my new soundtrack sounds like.  I'm hearing accordion.  Something like that song in the Wes Anderson short Hotel Chevalier - the song that is playing when Natalie Portman's character enters the scene. 

Prior to this move, my constant companion has been this album by a friend of mine, American Hotel - by Mike Brown.  I kept driving around Los Angeles, aching yearning for a change.  I just couldn't stop listening to it.  And some of the songs are very lonely and blue.  Sometimes I would just drive around hitting repeat, considering just taking off on a road trip.  (For the record, Let the Whiskey Drive & Out of My Head were 2 of my faves - though I really like just about all the songs on the record).

But those songs were part of the prior-to-my-move funk - when I was reaching my breaking point and ready to leave.  It's a uniquely American album, perfect for a road trip. alone.

I'm not in America anymore.

So what's my new soundtrack?  I've shed my tears - and I'm ready for my new chapter.