American in Spain

Whenever we go south to Extremadura, we always bring back liters upon liters of extra virgin olive oil and wine. I don’t actually have any photos of the place where I bought the wine I brought back, but I do have a good anecdote.

We traveled to the nearby town of Esparragosa de la Serena. The name is related to asparagus plants. Apparently the place we’ve bought wine in the past is no longer there, so we had to just park in the middle of the town and ask someone. At twelve noon, it was already pretty hot and the streets of the small town were deserted. Finally we found a gentleman sitting in his doorway. We asked him, “Excuse me, we’re looking to buy some wine. Can you direct us to someone that has wine to sell?” The man said, “No.”
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At the risk of my dear readers thinking I’m a drunk slob, I’ll share this grape-based epiphany.

Last week, a glass that had contained some wine was left out for a few days and the remaining wine almost dried up completely. The result was this accidental work of art. (more…)

On Sunday, we had dinner in a restaurant with Marga’s aunt and grandfather. The meal was good, but unremarkable. As we were leaving the restaurant, I spotted the most horrible porrón ever, sitting up on a shelf. It took me a moment to realize what I was seeing.

Warning, what you’re about to see may cause nightmares. (more…)

Upon learning of the Batalla de Vino last year, I decided that we must attend this year. Unfortunately, due to a problem with our car, and that it starts at 7:00 in the morning and is 90 minutes away, we’re going to have to wait until next year, when June 29 falls on a Sunday.
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Just like last year, today we had a free town sponsored meal in the park. The dish was cocido montañes, the most typical food here in Cantabria. It’s a stew with beans, cabbage and meat.
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This weekend, we went to Mondragon to celebrate the birthday of Marce, (Marga’s mother) Alejo (a friend of the family), and Inés (Marga’s aunt). Today is also Mother’s Day in Spain.
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Due to the request from Uncle Steve, I present to you the recipe for cow tongue, as prepared by Marga and her family…
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Marga’s folks, Juan and Marce came over for the weekend. Lots of wine and food were consumed.

On Saturday afternoon, Marga had the idea to go bowling at the mall in Santander. It was a dark and rainy day, and it turned out that quite a few other people had the same idea. We had to take a number and wait an hour to get a lane. I think this was the second time ever that Juan and Marce have bowled, and I was there for their first time, two years ago. My experience as a member of a bowling league when I was 12 (or 10?) shone through, and I put up two scores of 168, which is pretty good, considering that my personal best, from 15 years ago, is 185. In the second game, I almost had a turkey in the tenth, if you know what that means… My performance at the lanes, having not bowled in two years, and my memory of salsa dance steps when we went out last Thursday, combined with my ability to play golf once a year with very little skill degradation, has convinced me that I have better-than-average neuromuscular facilitation.
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Several times we have seen wine casks in stores and thought, “Man, that would look cool in our dining room!” But we’ve never bought one, because knew that Grandpa Ramón had one in his attic that he would give us. Well, last weekend, we finally got it from him.
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We went this past weekend to visit Marga’s folks in Mondragon, because Marga had an orthodontist appointment. We can’t remember the last weekend we spent at home. On a walk this morning, I snapped some pretty average photographs.
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