if paella were a blog, it would look something like this

¡hola, mi gente! admittedly, my format here is ever-changing. today i bring to you fewer words (or so i thought until i looked at the whole thing and it's probably longer than ever--such is my curse), more photos, a little mish-mashed chronologically but, all in all, relatively legit. i am trying to maintain some communication consistency but, you know, things happen, yada yada yada, and i slack on the posting. bottom line is, i will bring you what i can, when i can. i hope it brings you joy. or pain. as long as i am making a difference in the world. your world.

what follows is a wrap-up of some events of the past few days.

when we left off it was saturday evening and i was headed to el corte ingles (department store/super amazing supermercado). it was starting to cool down, and by cool down i mean it went from 98F to about 89F. but hey, i'll take what i can get.

i walked down a major street that leads me there from neil & chrissy's and it is basically a mellowed out rodeo drive. every bourgie store you can imagine lines the road so it's a pretty glamorous walk--me in my vans and $5 sunglasses passing by the suited-up señoras covered in chanel and class. i get into the store and first check out the ladies' fashion but nothing is cool enough to warrant spending my precious funds or schlepping it on my back for two more months. over it! get me to the food, already.

i go downstairs to the expansive market and i am loving it right away. there are entire sections (consisting of several aisles) dedicated to things as specific as olive oil or chorizo. i decide to pretend i am rachel ray (but less annoying, i hope? please.) and go on a mission to find the most bang for my euro (FYI the exchange rate right now is around 1E = $1.40) first up, a package of fresh green figs for 2E, which is a score compared to how i've seen them priced elsewhere. then i head to the canned fish section (which is massive, obviously) and hunt down a small can of sardines to do homage to my mom who told me she survived on canned sardines and fresh tomatoes when she was here years ago. less than one E. then the meats. ohhh, the meats. i showed you the impressive meatcase the other day (and i know someone is tempted to throw a "that's what (s)he said" in here but i don't think it really works). that stuff can be pricey though. i learned from chrissy & neil that their favorite type of jamon (iberico) is especially expensive because the pigs are fed nothing but acorns. sounds lovely, but i'm looking for a cheaper option and, since my palate is not developed to the point of specific gastronomic preferences, i am down with poor man's ham.

i find what i will refer to as the "dollar bin"--a refrigerated case with nothing but cheap meats and treats. sliced chorizo for 1E, jamon curado for 1E, and then--BINGO--the motherlode. (side note: in confirming my spelling of "motherlode" i came to discover that "the term probably came from a literal translation of the spanish veta madre, a term common in old mexican mining." well, whattayaknow? thanks, wikipedia.) i had been craving cheese as i had not eaten it since arriving here and, apparently, need it for my survival. what i stumbled upon was a mixed nuts package, if you will. mostly non-spanish cheeses but i do not discriminate. as long as it's not americano i am happy as a berberecho (cockle aka salt-water mollusk). manchego to fill the spanish quota (and to make wonger happy, as it it his ultimate favorite), swiss, brie, bleu, and some mysterious orange cheese with a rind that i cannot identify but am pleased with. all of this was 5E. my mind: blown. one more item before my bounty is complete--bread. i walk over to the bakery where this young man stands behind the counter, ready to serve. i ask him all sorts of questions because a) he seems bored so i am doing him a favor and b) i have no idea what the bread names mean. i finally settle on a small baguette and he tells me there are fresh ones coming out of the oven right now. he hooks it up! half a euro and hot hot hot! i take my schwag to the checkout. my total comes to 10E and some change and i am feeling GOOD. and hungry. i get outside, find a bench outside louis vuitton or one of those such places, and have a little snack. my happiness overrides the fact that madrid's upper crust is watching me eat bread like a vagrant. the rest i take back to the house as a small offering for my hosts who, undoubtedly, have been craving cheese too (as any human should, i say). here are the goods (after being picked at, obviously):

that evening, neil took me to the aforementioned and much-hyped "pirates of the caribbean" restaurant. i didn't quite know what he meant by that until we got there. decor was on point--quite the thrown-together, lost-at-sea motif. the place is a pulperia or something to that effect, pulpo being octopus. yes, this is an establishment that puts all their eggs in an eight-tentacled basket. (no, not literally. jeez.) i cant be bothered to know what it's actually called but let me please share a few crucial details of the experience, via photographic evidence. bottom left: pulpo (odd); bottom right: roasted chilies (tasty).

and now, bottom left: an empty bowl; bottom right: a flaming bowl of alcohol and fruit being scooped by a woman with a ladle and a deathwish.

neil and i were sitting adjacent to the table on which they "perform" this ritual (whilst the sounds of a spanish witch are played through the speakers) and considering all the many ways this could go wrong. neil's favorite: a loon could grab the bowl and throw it on the seated patrons and we'd all be covered in third-degree burns. let me tell you this: it is almost worth a visit for the insanity of the whole spectacle, but not so sure if it's worth the pulpo. too bad i don't know the name so you can't go anyway.

on sunday, as i mentioned, madrid is a ghost town, even more so than the other days during august. i suppose some people are out worshipping their lord, but i took advantage of this excuse to be completely lazy, which i rarely do. but before i could become a sloth i had one voyage to take. i started off the morning rather early (after another night of quasinsomnia) with chrissy and we took the metro to the rastro which is an open air flea market of cheapo new goods and antiques alike that covers several curvy cobbly streets. we walked around and scoped out the wares, but didnt buy anything. here are a few examples of the antiques up for grabs and the surroundings:

then, in trend-spotting news, thanks to chrissy (aka vanna white in the photo below), i got a couple photo ops of what we are still seeking the ideal name for. i am thinking "poopy pants", "diaper jumper", or "saggy booty overalls". not a fan. take a look and feel free to make suggestions:

additional trending news: white is white hot. women are loca for white pants and dresses. i wonder if the prevalence of such has a positive impact on the the sales of detergent and bleach (and tampons? too far?)
a few snapshots to prove i have what it takes to be a paparazzo (if it ever comes to that):

also spotted: men with mullets and rat-tails. or a combo, which is pretty much business in the front, party in the back all night long until the break of dawn. i have not yet been able to snap a pic of this but i am working on it. patience, child.

once we returned from the rastro, we spent the rest of the day lounging since the whole city is laying low. we made a great lunch (duh, right?) of whole trouts cooked in rock salt, roasted asparagus & eggplant, papaya, and a fun little cocktail we created with vodka, fresh OJ, gaseosa, and grand marnier. oh, i also prepared some of my figs and bleu cheese with walnuts and honey for a little appeteaser. do this--it will make you happy.

take a peek at neil preparing the fish:

to pass the day, i watched the remainder of the first (and only) season of "party down", with which i am completely obsessed and distraught there is no more to watch. it aired on the starz network but i believe it is available on netflix ("watch instantly" option) for any of you interested. word on the street is that some of the "freaks and geeks" people are behind this show. it is genius. i love.

yesterday i spent much of the day walking through a new area of the neighborhood shopping for food and a few clothing items. some discoveries along the way:

supermarkets have an entire flan section:

proof of the absurdly cheap wine prices:

a leather jacket for 59E!? yes, real:

some scenery i like:

and lastly i'll leave you with some stained glass behind a bar that neil recognized as bearing a striking resemblance to larry david. agreed?

thanks for checking in, my friends. there is always more coming your way. if you can deal. ciao.

this should buy us some time

ok, ok. neil is giving me endless amounts of mierda for not posting today so i am throwing this out there to appease him and likewise tell my loyal readership--all 1.75 of you--that i intend to be back but have been distracted by other things such as canned mussels, 2.99E clothing sales, and bailey's on ice (a beverage that i never anticipated developing such a fondness for after having grown so old & comfortable with good ol' jameson rocks).


it's still hot as pelotas here (can i get away with being profane if it's not in english? yes. i did. and i will.) and it's 3:00 am so i am going to call it a night and try to sleep but will throw a more substantial blog your way at my earliest convenience. and you know why? because you mean the world to me. even though i hate your haircut and you smell like durian, i still dig you. what can i say? darling, you send me.


and before i forget, the last purpose of this post is to tell sisco that he is invited to come over for dinner tomorrow. neil & chrissy would like to test whether or not this method of communication (read: pure chance aka a shot in the dark aka a carrier pigeon--that can't fly) is superior to all others we have available. i will let the rest of you know whether this is effective or not because you will be dying--dying--to know. i can just feel it. MAGIC.


buenas.

revelation 8:22

a couple days have passed since i last updated the new world on my spanish adventures, and now i find myself back in my favorite wifi (wee-fee) spot, very near casa de neil y chrissy. it is called "CheSSCAfe" and for the life of me i cannot figure out the seemingly arbitrary capitalization. maybe it's something i need to be a local to understand but if anyone reading this has insight, i welcome it. i'll even buy you a cafe con hielo (valued at 1.70 E aka $2 something) to thank you, so it's a good deal for you! don't let me down.

i have now been in madrid for four days, yet it feel like weeks, or months. in a good way. i feel comfortable, somewhat oriented, and my spanish is (in my own humblest of opinions) improving by the day. i try to just communicate "normally" and not even tell people i am american, if it is not already evident from my accent, fashion, or bizarre actions (such as opening up the holed-lid of a water-filled ashtray on the restaurant table to find out what was inside--ich, my mistake) that probably make me appear as an alien trying to blend in and failing. remember "mork & mindy"? yeah, like that.



oh, but speaking of fashion, i have been casually observing the local styles. trend-spotting, if you will. yes, a few ladies here and there are trampy, with their melones on parade and their stripper heels (so great for walking on cobblestone streets!), but some are stylish and hot hot hot, and some just strut around in the 100 degree heat in things that make no sense to me, like gladiator sandals up to the knee which end up being like boots with a few holes for ineffective ventilation. how do the (nicely bronzed) calves not become a sticky jungle? no gracias. another thing i'm seeing lots of is women with lip piercings. who knew? i am likewise amused to see spaniards wearing shirts with english writing on them. just like americans wear elusive foreign phrases on their chests and sleeves thinking it appears mysterious and alluring. but here it's like i'm in on the secret and they're not. like this guy sitting across from me at the cafe in the san antonio spurs jersey (u.s. professional basketball, for those of you in need of sports reference cliffs notes). has he been to texas, really? or did he just find this sleeveless garment in some overpriced shop touting prestigious american wares guaranteed to get you laid? no, i'm not going to ask him, so i'll just let you guess and leave it at that.



so what have i done since we last spoke? i realize that the daily diary has the potential to become (or already is) a bit tired after a while, with me recounting everything i ate, where i walked, how hot it was (yeah, yeah, you get it already) so i will attempt to make note of the things that stand out, but forgive me if this becomes self-indulgent redundant rambling. if you are bored or offended, you can tell me off! in the language of your choice! i have google language tools at my finger tips.

to get it out of the way, i will start with the food update, because there are some of you who have a fascination with epicurean details and i care about your needs, i really do. it's all about you. so, naturally, we have made some stellar meals at the house. neil & chrissy dont F around. they eat well and i am thankful for this. one lunch was sushi, but without rice (because it was going to take too long and required some kind of intricate fanning action). delicious, fresh salmon & bonito/tuna (yes, from my main man dah-veed) with mango, avocado, cucumber. neil is sick of me talking about the lacking rice (c'mon, man, i only mentioned it twice!), but something i realized is that i think the body (or mine, at least) needs the starch to balance out all the fish. it's becoming evident that the south beach diet and i will ever have a relationship. not even a one-nighter.

dinner last night was another feast for the books: pan-fried steaks (when i asked the butcher if it was from a cow [vaca] he said yes, but young. to me this means veal [ternera] which is commonly eaten here, but the meat looked too dark to be veal and thus we have concluded it was probably not a baby calf but more like an adolescent. right in the middle of that teen angst. (apologies to any vegetarian readers that may still be hanging around. if i haven't yet, i am bound to offend you with my unabashed carnivorousness. c'est la vie. [et mort.]) with our steaks we had roasted cauliflower, which neil cut thin slices of so that they looked/tasted like caramelized trees of heaven. also some potatoes, salad, gazpacho. to any jewish mother reading, please take comfort in knowing i am not going hungry. and with our meals we are sipping sangria, nice wines, a little nightcap of bailey's on ice. it seems this is a culture that drinks often, but keeps its cool, if you know what i mean.

i walked a lot yesterday, and what would be an easy six miles in SF is a struggle here because i am sweating enough to fill a small pool (that no one would want to swim in). neil and i first went to the corte ingles which, i believe, is spain's largest department store chain. but not only is it the spanish macy's, they also have a huge supermarket below. let me show you the meat case:

later in the day i walked from the house down to retiro park which is pretty massive and filled with fountains, sculptures, much-coveted shade, young lovers making out on the grass, a large pond with rent-able row boats, and a few costumed mickey mouses (mice?), the purpose of which eludes me.

from the park i walked to the nearby prado museum. i timed my visit perfectly so that i could get in for free (the last two hours of each day are this way) and browsed the massive permanent collection of classical jesus paintings by goya, el bosco, botticelli, and the like. no joke, they are nearly all pictures of christ at various stages of life. oh yes, and the cross is a big deal too. lots of those. the few that don't feature J.C. are a "retrato de un caballero/dama" (portrait of a gentleman/lady) and a couple chaotic multi-paneled scenes of ancient people giving in to indulgences (perhaps the woodstock of the 15th century) and/or enjoying the fruits of heaven/pugatory/hell. though i had visited the prado 10 years ago, i felt i should swing back through again with my older eyes and see what popped. a few works i found myself getting into a bit and zoning in on details, like the sun hidden behind the trees, or the way bodies are drawn in odd postures and contortions, but for the most part, i just walked through each room, feeling as though i had seen the same faces in the room before. i became overwhelmed and, also being fatigued from the journey there, was ready to leave. one hour, in and out. and then i came to realize, i don't really like museums. i like art, as a concept. i like knowing it exists and seeing it, but i get more pleasure out of things on the street or in a shop than the classics that are held up to such a high value in our culture for a reason i am still unable to grasp. the museum experience itself is a bit cold to me. all tourists, going through the motions. feels obligatory. i'm sure some (possibly most) people actually enjoy every element of the visit and get something from it that i don't, but i am me, and this is how i feel. i am not big on landmarks and national monuments either. yeah, i've been to the eiffel tower, empire state, vatican, etc. and don't get me wrong, there's a certain satisfaction associated with being able to stand on something that is so iconic worldwide. but traveling, to me, is not for the purpose of checking boxes on a list that is printed in bulk and in the hands of every traveller alike. being seen as a tourist, even by myself, is something i strive to avoid. visiting different places is something i do to experience living. i want to morph into a local and live a typical day. yes, i will whip out my camera, as covertly as possible, and snap photos of door handles and signs and silhouettes that are aesthetically pleasing and uncommon to me, but i try to let that be the extent of the tourist tendencies.


today i went with neil & chrissy into the center of town to a very sleek marketplace filled with deliciousness.

inside this beautiful building with high ceilings and modern details there is a counter for any type of edible: produce, fish, cheese, jam, pastries, meat. we stood at the counter of one place and ate some langostinas which are essentially large whole shrimp (from head to tail) and some pinchos of different fish and cured meats on crostini. we then purchased food to prepare at the house for the next couple days since most things are closed on sunday, probably so that people can stay home and paint portraits of jesus descending from the cross in hopes they'll one day hang in a museum.

i am now going to say goodbye to the CheSSCAfe (before they look over at me again wondering when i will leave already) and take a walk in the heat of the heat to el corte ingles once again to swoop up some meat, cheese, and bread for a little snack to hold me over til our 10:00 dinner at some mysterious place that neil has talked up as a very "pirates of the caribbean" experience. ay dios mio. i can't wait.

i'll leave you with this song by alesha dixon, "the boy does nothing", which is really big here (as is "pokerface"). has it hit the states yet? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xn9lLnVurYI&feature=related