tinto de verano

a hint of summer,  tinto de verano is more popular than sangria in Granada, España--the casual chic city that also serves free tapas, as they should be.  I thought this reminiscing would help me get through the week and onto PRIDE weekend where there won't be tinto, but hopefully lots of fun and excitement. 

tapas, bocadillos con patatas and cheese fritters

missing my mama; reflections on madrid

Madrid is one of those cities that surprises you every time, and an example of what a metropolis should be like--super navigable via your own two feet. I visited Madrid on three separate occasions, and loved it more each time. The first time, I was coming from Granada and shocked by the big city feel, but after a slice of tortilla española and glass of vino blanco, I was quickly comforted.


While volunteering at Pueblo Ingles, I made many Spanish friends who invited me to stay with them while traveling in their cities. Those have been my favorite and most memorable experiences--the first was with Lola in Madrid. I think her name says a lot about her. A remarkable, chic and classic Almodóvar woman. To the right her is dog, Cuba. Adorable, no?




After Portugal, I flew back to Madrid and spent a few days with Paloma's family. The English translation to Paloma is 'dove' and I don't think there's a better word to describe this woman. Always smiling and ever so patient, Paloma is a sweet Madrillena of many generations. She picked me up at the Metro and we had a beautiful afternoon-into-the-evening walk around El Retiro park, caught the Día de la Hispanidad (Columbus' discovery of the America's celebration) parade by surprise, and finished the evening with gourmet tapas and vino.

el retiro park

 

tapas in the plaza: camembert cheese sauteed with a little bit of sugar and topped with a slice of roasted red pepper; manchego and spinach salad with salmon; fried rolls stuffed with cheese

One of my fondest memories is of hanging out with her teenage son, David--we spent the entire afternoon at the shopping mall searching for a replacement battery for my cell phone, munched on candy-store bought popcorn and stoppped to talk to everyone he knew in town (I'm convinced he knows everyone in Madrid!)

Another memorable moment--hanging out with CSer Jose. He introduced me to one of my favorite parts of Madrid, Lavapíes. Lola calls it the worst and best place to go in the city. Lots of alternative bars and restaurants (had a very filling Lebanese din din), street dealers and alas in Spain, some ethnic diversity. That night we went to hear a friend of a friend's terrible rock band play followed by some strong shots of rum or something of that nature. Check out this pizza we made using all fresh ingredients found in Madrid...a Spanish pizza!

How fitting as I write this while in Itay where I've eaten one too many slices of pizza, plates of pasta and scoopfulls of gelato. That post and more to come.

i think it was fate that brought me back to barcelona...

This morning I missed my train to Montpellier and then caught the wrong one from Girona to Barcelona. What a pity. I'm sitting here drinking suave Pilsner Urquell, munching on bar nuts and thinking about what an unbelievable time I have had in Spain. I'm just not ready to leave.

Before Girona I was in Barcelona couchsurfing with Elvira and then stayed with my Pueblo Ingles friend, Gloria and her wonderfully generous family for nearly a week.  It was like living the Catalan life-- playing fútbol with her son, 8-year old Marcel, listening to Albert sing, browsing the markets. indulging in the pasteries across the street, laughing over family dinners. That was my favorite part. Something about sharing meals is so simple and yet so special. My last evening I cooked for the fam and made my green curry specialty.

Barcelona is one of those places people rave about and you don't quite understand until you've experienced it for yourself. It's intoxicating. And I love it. Why?  For one, the tapas.

 I don't even know how to begin to describe the deliciousness that were these tapas. A shmear of blended cheeses and sprinkled with surprises. My favorite was the walnut one with a little cinnamon sugar and walnuts bits, both sweet and savory. Another I enjoyed (really, I enjoyed them all) was layered with a slice of tomato, a triangle-sized mozzarella and the best part, topped with a pesto salsa and bits of green and red peppers.  Above, the stuffed red pepper glazed with a little alioli and sprinkled with little shavings of cheese and parsley was like a little party in my mouth.

Barrio de Gracía is my favorite pocket in the big B. Not just because it's where Gloria's family is from, but because it's got this small town feel with a massive outdoor market with fresh produce and everything you can imagine to the freshest seafood available, a library, galleries, bookstores, pastries and bread shops, and more shops of fresh cheeses, shoes, clothes, everything, restaurants and cafés, all within a 2-second walking distance. Why leave Barca?!

(note: i started this post thursday, oct 22nd. i made it safely to Montpellier, had a nice if not sad two days (because i lost my camera),  then a day in Nice (gorgeous beaches in an expensive town) and am now in Roma where I find the Italian accent so, so sexy.)

a photo entry for the past two weeks

I can't believe it's been more than a month since I've been gone, and I have so much to recount and not nearly enough time or energy to jot it down. Hopefully, these pictures will capture even just a little bit of the wonders in Spain.

helpXing at Caballo Blanco Horse Trekking Camp

friends, meet Lucero. Isn't he a cutie?

Just about to take Molly for a ride (after a long hot day of feeding, mucking the stables, brushing, sweating, all that jazz)

 

And the beautiful view of Caeña on horseback (I won't even begin to explain how I almost dropped my camera when Pixchie decided we should canter) 

helpXing with Julia, Rupert, Wim and Kes

veggies and flowers from their garden

my masterpiece (i learned to tile!)

by the campfire @ Beneficio, an alternative eco-conscious community in Orgiva/Caeña

Granada --

 The Alhambra

 

ma ma ---- Madrid!

the view from my friend lisa's flat

i'm pooped and my throat hurts, which is not good because tomorrow is my first day volunteering as an "anglo" at pueblo ingles, an intense weeklong program for spaniards to improve their english by immersing themselves completely in it. it should be fun and easy. i mean, all i have to do is speak my native tongue, right?

buenas noches--

xoxo

the labor of love for almonds

At La Casa del Viento, my appreciation for food deepens with each and every meal. Last night's warm, subtly sweet and savory almond soup attributes to that as Orfhlaith and I hand picked the almonds, cracked, dehusked and devoured them all!

le almond tree

 almonds are ready to be picked when their outer green shell opens 

step one: collect bucket full of almonds

step two: grab two sturdy rocks, one for almond bed, the other to smash

step three: smash!

step four: practice hope that most of your almonds remain whole

step five: perfecto! look, two almonds in one.

step six admire the almond, a beauty of a nut rich in flavor and full of antioxidants

step six: continue until you have enough to boil and dehusk for your soup

final step: enjoy! 

it's not every day you get to delight in an almond soup 

where the almonds are homegrown and handpicked and oh, so delightful.

mas manchego, que bueno!

As soon as I stepped out of the bus and into the sweltering mountainous village of Lanjarón, I heard my name being called, "Connie, Connie!" in an upbeat British accent. Surely, enough, this must be Ann, I thought. She pulled up in her speedy little motor of a car, I hopped in, and off we were to La Casa del Viento, House of the Wind, my home, workplace and unexpectedly, a tucked away paradise in southern Spain.
First, I want to tell you more about Ann and La Casa del Viento. House of the wind, as is the English translation, is Ann's home and work, which she's created with the help of HelpX-ers over the past nine years and counting. It's stunning and so obvious that so much work and love has gone behind it. Ann is about sixty or so, but with her energy, physique and charm, you'd think she was much, much younger. She's one to welcome with open arms, is so sweet, full of life, great recipes and plenty of stories. The kind of woman I aspire to be.
As a HelpXer, I've been nurturing the plant life here. And on this massive land, there's plenty of sweat and love to go around. It's only been two days, but a lot of hard, rewarding and humbling work. There are trees, and trees galore of olives, almonds, figs, lemons, avocados, apples, pears, grapes, blackberries, cranberries, pomegranates, oh I can go on and then there are tomatoes, squash, greenbeans, cuccumbers, aubergine (eggplant) and (and that's just what's in season now!) -- and there's mint, thyme, rosemary, and my favorite, oh so favorite, jasmine, the scent just takes me this place of wonder-- all of this growing for our pleasurable consumption.
What I love about being here, among many things, is being able to cook with the very own foods grown right in my eyesight. Above is what an almond tree looks like, who would've thunk? Yesterday, I dehusked a bucket of almonds and lost my nutroast virginity.
Below was my first dinner--oven-roasted spaghetti squash with stuffed vegetables in a tomatoe sauce, potatoes roasted to a golden crisp and my very own nut roasted (I even hand-blended the almonds and fresh bread rolls myself!), complimented with a light Spanish white wine. A deliciuosly wholesome experience.
I met Orfhlaith (the f and t are silent, pronounced Orla), such a sweet and open-minded recent high school grad from Dublin, Ireland. I fancy working with her. We've been pruning grapes, and might I say, they are quite the sticky mess. As they hang from their vines, some of them, when they're really ripe, drip and ooze this syrup that's sticky like sap. And nonetheless, they are ever so gorgeous. I've frozen a bunch just like at home when my sibs and I would freeze grapes during the summer and snack on them like candy by the pool.
After a morning's work from 8am to 2pm with a coffee break at 11am and a scrumptious lunch made of various seasoned salads and cheeses, swimming and siestaing usually ensue.
Yesterday, Orfhlaith and I headed into town for some tinto de verano and vermouth, popular Spanish summer drinks and of course, tapas. It was a hot and hilly trek full of rocks, but luckily, with the sweetness of picking fresh figs off the trees. I love the leathery texture of figs and their rich sweetness. They also remind me of two really dear friends. Tammy who's now studying and practicing yoga and learning Hindi in India, introduced me to fresh figs last year (fig newtons just don't count), and whenever I eat them, I think of her and of Natalie, where at her New Year's Eve Party made the most decadent goat-cheese and almond stuffed and baked figs. I attempted to replicate such an hor'dourve at lunch today, but it didn't come out quite as nice.
In the town of Lanjarón, shops close around typical American dinner time and later open for a night full of tapas and fiestas. After all, hard work comes with hard play, only after proper rest.
During closed hours, I noticed a fond separation of the sexes--old men sitting on benches while women sat in circles chatting. The old men and women, in their weathered looks of wisdom, quiet in passing and quite off-putting, are handsome and real in a beautiful way.

 With the breathtaking sights, fresh and mouthwatering foods and sweet Ann and Orfhlaith who are like family, I don't think I can ask for more. This is my first HelpX experience, and thus far, it has been specatcular. While I am so grateful to be here, I am constantly thinking and in the little-ist things, am reminded of home, my loving family and friends, the food, comfort and warmth-- to balance it all and keep perspective is such a blessing.