You Gotta Eat

You Gotta Eat

There are good neighborhood bakeries everywhere and I have a weakness for a hearty loaf they call a campesino, or country bread, which cost about a dollar each. The big supermarket also makes good bread. I will have to get into the habit of doing my grocery shopping at several places in order to get the best quality and prices.

I am on the Spanish schedule of having only a cup of coffee in the morning, a big lunch around 2 or 3 in the afternoon and then dinner sometime after nine at night. This corresponds to the merchants’ schedules as many shops close at around two o’clock for siesta and reopen at around five. I have heard that this way of life is sort of fading out in Spanish life as the retail industry is being taken over by bigger franchises but the siesta seems alive and well in Valencia.

The Spanish attitude about work is still quite different from the American business work ethic. The Mercadona supermarket in my neighborhood is closed on Sundays while the restaurants on my block are open Sunday and closed on Mondays. I wouldn’t say that most businesses take Sunday off but I also wouldn’t expect to get much done that day. It’s also a big day for football games so Sunday is like two holy days in one.

I am taking full advantage of the great kitchen in this place. It has a gas stove and I have plenty of cookware. I wasn’t able to haul my beloved cast iron skillet across the Atlantic, not this time, but I feel vindicated in my choice of bringing along a lot of my own cooking utensils. I have my favorite pepper mill, a stainless steel pot with a lid, a big meat cleaver, a set of flatware with steak knives, a small cheese grater, and a beautiful olive dish that was a gift from my sister-in-law. After living in Spain for three years she became somewhat of an expert on dishware and she assures me that this olive serving dish can only be found in Portugal.

Last night I made lentils and a dish of mixed sausages and chorizo with onions. The lentils came out especially fine because I picked up a pre-packaged vegetable soup medley of carrots, leeks, celery, and some other thing that I’ll have to look up as I don’t recall what it is called in English. The garlic here is exceptional. If I had this served to me in a restaurant here I’d be talking about it forever. This hearty meal was accompanied by a generous amount of Masia de Altigon red wine—now in handy five liter plastic jugs. I can’t believe that the table wine is 12% by volume alcohol because I’ve been drinking the stuff like Hawaiian Punch with no effect other than it makes the food taste better.

For lunch I have been eating a lot of dried, cured meats. I’m in the process of wading through the seemingly endless choices in this area of the grocery store. The cheeses are nothing to write home about but I feel that it’s my job to write home about everything—even unremarkable cheese. It is hard to spit in Spain and not hit an orange tree so I’ve been eating these wonderful seedless clementine oranges that are similar to mandarins. There are two types of take-out chickens for sale: spit roasted (Asado) and grilled (Criollo) and both are delicious and cheaper than cooking at home.

The Mercado Central in the Ciutat Vella (Old City) is the best place to shop for fresh vegetables, meats, fish and seafood, spices, and olives. I bought a pound of mixed olives and some anchovies after tasting a dozen or so varieties.