Comida

One of the things I miss most about Spain is the food. And not just the food in itself, but the style and culture of eating in Spain-- food isn't just for nourishment, it is a tool for being together and for conversation.


Spanish cuisine currently holds a reputation for innovation and creativity previously only given to French cuisine. However, the imaginative recipes being developed by today's Spanish chefs are, despite their innovation, based on the solid traditions of Spanish food which is unpretentious, simple, healthy, and delicious.


Traditional Spanish cuisine is very much a product of the resources, geography, and the different cultures that have influenced Spain. Spain and Portugal form the Iberian Peninsula, separated from mainland Europe by the Pyrenees Mountains and surrounded by the Atlantic Ocean and Mediterranean Sea. Spain's miles of coastline, more than any other country in Europe, provide bountiful seafood and fish which appear in many traditional dishes like paella, Spain's national dish. Spain is also a very close neighbor to Africa (Morocco is only fourteen kilometers/eight miles across the Strait of Gibralter) and many of the spices, like cumin and safron, used in Spanish cooking are from African influences. Different cultures that settled in Spain throughout the ages brought their own contribution to Spain's cuisine. The prominence of wine is a result of the time Spain spent as part of the Roman Empire. The Greeks introduced the quintessential Spanish ingredient, olive oil, while seasonings and spices that we associate with Spanish food are a legacy of the Moors.


Spain's culinary traditions rely on an abundance of locally grown vegetables and fruits as well as meats and poultry. The Greeks may have brought olives to Spain, but the arid climate of Spain is perfectly suited to grow them as well as many other fruits and vegetables. Jamón serrano, a cured ham, and chorizo, a seasoned sausage, are very popular as well as a multitude of other dishes with ham and pork. Seriously, they like ham so much that there is a museum, El Museo de Jamón in Madrid, and they have jamón flavored chips. Seafood and fish are popular in coastal areas like Valencia and Andalucía. Other popular foods are cheeses, eggs, beans, rice, nuts (especially almonds), and bread (a crusty white bread, baked fresh daily, is common and was part of my daily diet). Olive oil and garlic are also common ingredients; my señora made a traditional dish called sopa de ajo (garlic soup) made with olive oil, day-old bread, and garlic.


One of the best-known Spanish dishes, a stew called paella (pie-AY-ah), originated in Valencia, an eastern province on the Mediterranean Sea. Rice, a main ingredient, is grown in Valencia's tidal flatlands. Though there are numerous variations, paella is usually made of a variety of shellfish (such as shrimp, clams, crab, and lobster), chorizo (sausage), vegetables (tomatoes, peas, and asparagus), chicken and/or rabbit, and long-grained rice. Broth, onion, garlic, wine, pimiento (sweet red pepper), and saffron add flavor to the stew. My señora also made paella with chicken, which I liked better than the traditional seafood paella.

Home

So I am back in California, home from my adventure in Spain. And I miss Spain already. California, forgive me; I did not realize how much I loved you until I was away. But, culture shock on re-entry is much worse than it was going into Spain. It is crazy to think about all that has happened and how much I have changed in the past few months. Even though I am no longer in Spain, there is so much I am still thinking about and still processing. So, even though I will not be posting things that are currently happening, I think I will continue writing about memories from Spain and everything I am still working through.

Where did the time go?

It is my last week in Spain... I don't know what to say or think. I don't know if I am ready or not. It seems to change by the minute.

Part of me says, "It's time. It's time to go home." This is the part of me that wants to see my family and friends, misses the ocean and the beach, and wants In'N'Out Burger and a chocolate shake like none other.

Part of me says, "There is so much still to do and see-- there wasn't enough time and I am not ready to say good-bye." This is the part of me that is sad about not having travelled to all the places I wanted to, not having tried all the things I wanted to, and also the part of me that is not ready to say good-bye to all my friends here.

One thing I do know: I am definitely ready to be finished with school and finals. I am just ready for summer and the freedom I am (possibly falsely) convinced will come with it. Sometime during the last week, School and Spain morphed into one entity, so although I am maybe not ready to say good-bye to Spain and all that I love here, I am ready to be home for summer.

In the meantime, I am studying for finals and trying to pack up my whole life into one suitcase, which happens to be quite difficult...

Some of the reasons why Spain has stolen my heart

For the past week or so temporary stands and booths have been being constructed in Plaza Nueva and in Plaza de San Francisco. I discovered first that, in addition to celebrating the Day of the Book on April 23, today begins the Sevilla Feria del Libro--a ten day festival celebrating the book. When I was in Barcelona, I discovered that they celebrate el día de San Jordi (Sait George in English-- you know the guy who killed the dragon) which also happens to be April 23; it is like their Valentine's day, except they exchange books and flowers. Anyway, the booths in Plaza Nueva and Plaza de San Francisco are filled with books from the bookstores around Sevilla. If you did not already realize, this is Lit Major Heaven, and I need not say that this could be very dangerous for my wallet. (Sevilla, you have a city-wide book fair!? Do you know how much I love you?)


This is not the only way in which Spain has stolen my heart. In Barcelona I visited the Chocolate Museum, or the Museu de Xocolata as it is known in Catalan. Besides the fact that sweet chocolate was a Spanish invention (the Spanish took the bitter chocolate used by the Aztecs and mixed it with milk and sugar which was the beginning of what we know as chocolate), the first mechanized chocolate factory was in Barcelona, Spain. Many of the displays are chocolate sculptures, including various well-known Barcelona buildings and illustrations from various stories. It is owned by the Gremi de Pastisseria de Barcelona (the city pastry-makers' guild) and on the other side of teh courtyard is the school for pastry chefs. The wall of the building is practically all windows, so I stood there watching them bake for a long time. It was like the Food Network, only better.

Alcázar (this time with photos)

These are photos from the Alcázar (royal palace) of Sevilla. You may not remember, but I wrote a blog much earlier in the semester about the Alcázar. I will not bore you by repeating things I have already written, but if you want to read about the Alcázar, feel free to check out my previous post :)

Now for photos:

Toro! Toro! OLE!

I finally mustered up the courage to go to a bull fight (corrida de toros) this past Sunday. I convinced myself that it was a cultural nessecity and that my experience in Spain would be incomplete without it. How could I tell people that I lived in Spain and never went to a Corrida de Toros? So, I found a few other friends who felt the same way and we decided to go to a Novelladas (a Corrida with younger toreros and younger bulls, basically like the "minor leagues," if you will). And I actually enjoyed it. If you know me, you know how I feel about blood and gore and what I have just said may have come as a shock. However, it was not as bloody as I thought it would be and I actually found it really interesting. And besides thinking of Ferdinand (a book from my childhood) through the whole thing, I had a little Hemmingway moment-- forgive me for being a Lit nerd.


The Corrida de Toros, practiced in Spain, Portugal, some cities in southern France as well as in several Lain American countries, is a traditional spectacle where bulls are ritually killed in a public arena. Spain, above all, is known for tauromachy (bullfighting), and I was a little surprised to hear about the other countries that still practice the sport. Bullfighting is said to have been a tradition that sprang up in the colonies of the Roman Empire in Western Europe (i.e.: what is now Spain and Portugal) where many human-versus-animal events were held. There are also theories that it first cane to Spain by way of Emperor Claudius as a substitute for gladiatiors when he instituted a short-lived ban on gladiatorial combat. Bullfighting later spread from Spain to its Central and South American colonies, and in the 19th century to France.


The tradition of the Corrida de Toros as it is practiced today involves professional toreros (bull fighters) who execute various formal, even artistic, moves in order to maneuver, subdue, and eventually kill the bull. These maneuvers are performed with little protection and at very close range. Obviously, it is dangerous and can end in injury or death of the torero; but it is important to remember that he has chosen this profession (this is, in fact, his job) and is professionally trained. The subject of toros is one of strong debate in Spain becuase of the danger for the torero and because certain groups feel that it is a blood sport and useless killing or propogates animal cruelty. It is also important to remenber that every toro used in a Corrida is treated exceptionally well and that after the bull is killed, all of it is used for meat. In addition to being a delicacy of Spain, it is supposedly the best quality of meat there is becauseof how well it is fed and how well it is treated (although I have never tried it). Aficionados say that the Corrida de Toros is the ultimate union of art and courage. Bulls learn fast and their capacity to do so should never be underestimated. Indeed, a bullfight may be viewed as a race against time for the matador, who must display his bullfighting skills with style and with proper form before the animal learns what is going on thrusts its horns at something other than the cape.


Anyway, back to the actual bullfight.

There are two "rounds" and three toreros (bull fighters) who, in total, each kill two bulls. They each kill one in the first round and each kill another in the second round. Even though they are all from the same year (imagine "grade") of bull-fighting school, they start with the oldest then move to the youngest. During the Corrida the crowd alternates between clapping (which means good job, well done, we like it) and whistleing (which means bad job, poorly done, we don't like it). The crowd is critiquing the torero on his bravery, his performace, his style, and his artistic interpretation. The audience looks for the matador to display an appropriate level of style and courage and for the bull to display aggression and determination. For the matador, this means performing skillfully in front of the bull, often pushing the limits in how close he stands to the bull and turning his back on it to demonstrate his mastery over the animal. The skill with which he delivers the fatal blow is another major point to look for. A skillful matador will achieve it in one stroke that goes through the spinal chord of the bulla nd the aorta killing it instantly. Two tries is barely acceptable, while more than two is usually regarded as a bad job. The moment when the matador kills the bull is the most dangerous point of the entire fight, as it requires him to reach between the horns, head on, to deliver the blow. If a torero does really, really well, at the end of the fight the crowd will wave white pañuelos (kind of like handkercheifs) and one of the officials will cut off one of the ears (orejas) of the bull and give it to the torero as a trophy. Very, very rarely, the crowd may petition to spare the bull's life if it is exceptionally strong and brave. They did not give any orejas at the bull fight I went to, but I have seen it happen on TV. Carmen, my host mom, watches bull fights broadcasted live from Madrid. That's Spain for you.


One really interesting thing happened during the middle of the Corrida. The third torero had started to do his thing when the bull ran straight into one of the walls of the Plaza and tripped over it's horns that had gotten stuck in the ground. It must have injured it's neck or something in the fall, because after that it was really sluggish and was apparantly not fit for the fight. The crowd started whistling and whistling and all of a sudden everyone left the arena-- the picadores, banderilleros, and the toreros. The bull, deemed not suited to the fight, was left standing in the middle of the Plaza and after a few minutes about eight to ten steers (castrated bulls) entered the ring and roamed around the bull in the middle. The bull eventually calmed down and left teh ring with the steers. The steers are used to calm the bull down and get it out of the ring safely. The best thing about this is that I knew what was going on thanks to Ernest Hemmingway and his book The Sun Also Rises. And you thought a Literature Major was useless!

A parting thought:
Ernest Hemingway said of bullfighting in his 1932 non-fiction book Death in the Afternoon: "Bullfighting is the only art in which the artist is in danger of death and in which the degree of brilliance in the performance is left to the fighter's honour."

Churches and Convents

The weather here in Sevilla has been like full summer in California with brilliant sun and slight humidity, but a heat that is sweetened by a light breeze every so often. I went for a walk this morning with three other girls to take advantage of the lovely weather and the quiet streets. For Christmas, my parents gave me a guidebook of Sevilla full of self-guided neighborhood walks and special walking tours of the city. It has seriously been one of the best and most useful gifts I have ever received; I have used it countless times and learned so much about the city and the history that is hidden on every corner.

Today we did a tour of churches and convents in the area of Sevilla known as La Macarena (which has absolutely nothing to do with Ricky Martin). We first passed by Iglesia del Salvador, a beautiful church that used to be the city’s main cathedral before the actual cathedral was built. Iglesia del Salvador was redone in later years, and now is now one of the most impressive baroque churches in the city—in terms of both architecture on the outside and art on the inside. Next stop was Iglesia de San Pedro, another baroque church that although much simpler than el Salvador, is still very beautiful. One of the tile paintings depicting purgatory on the outside of Iglesia de San Pedro has a small bird hidden in it (which I found); according to local legend, if you find the bird, it means you will get married...

Well, anyway, we moved on to the Monasterio de Santa Ines, a lovely small convent full of cloister nuns (meaning they have no contact with the outside world). Many of the convents in Sevilla (and I imagine in the rest of Spain and Europe too) don’t get as steady a stream of support as they did in past centuries, so they have to find other ways to support themselves. Many of them make jams, pastries, and other sweets to sell and sometimes rosaries and other crafts as well. However, it is difficult to sell things when you are a cloister nun and are shut off from the outside world, so they have developed an ingenious system. There is a small alcove with a rotating shelf in the wall where, after you ring the bell, a nun from behind the wall will ask you what you want. You then put the money on the shelf and she will turn the shelf around, take the money, put the pastries on her side of the shelf, and turn it back around so you can take them. I bought some tortas de chocolate, which turned out to be small chocolate biscuit/shortbread type cookies. Christy bought some magdalenas, which are kind of like the Spanish version of a muffin.

We went on to see a few more churches—Iglesia de San Marcos, Convento de Santa Isabel, and Palacio de las Dueñas—but my favorite was the Convento de Santa Paula, which is one of the few enclosed religious complexes in Sevilla that welcomes visitors. We went inside and talked to a nun who was adorable and lovely. She asked us about where we were from and how long we had been in Sevilla. She called us guapa and complimented me on my Spanish. I wish you could see how big I smiled. The nuns there make jam and marmalade, and we each bought some before leaving. Buying sweets and jam from nuns is like the epitome of fair trade—you buy all-natural products (made with love and prayer, nonetheless) and the money goes directly to good deeds and social justice without any intermediary. I think things might taste better when they are made by nuns.

In any case, it was a very lovely day.