Time to talk about food

When I got to Barcelona, one of my main concerns was the food - How good would it be? How much would it cost? Would I ever learn to cook? Where do they sell Frozen Yogurt (well, they don't)? What IS Spanish food exactly?

Through my culinary adventures on a shoestring budget, here's what I have learned so far. I admit that I was hungry the first week - I hadn't a clue where to eat. On one hand, I wanted to try Spanish food. On the other, all the pictures outside the restaurants in our neighborhood looked unappetizing. Why? There were all these bars and restaurants in Poble Sec we've come to call the "picture" restaurants - these are restaurants whose outdated, bleached color photos show interesting combinations of well known foods. For instance - take steak, french fries, tuna, lettuce, egg, and tomato and see how many combinations you can make without actually mixing any of them. Ex. A steak with an egg on top and lettuce on the side. Ex 2. Lettuce and tuna  with a tomato and french fries on the side. Ex 3. A plate of tuna.

These are the local, hole in the wall bar restaurants by Melon District. I learned soon on that these places aren't meant to impress. They're meant to provide daily comfort food to the neighborhood regulars that frequent them. On the contrary, there are many impressive, non "picture" restaurants throughout the Borne, Gracia, and Eixample neighborhoods. The biggest difference between Berkeley and here - a good, cheap, tasty, non-fast food meal will cost 8 euros or more. That is the cutoff between eating well and cooking at home. Enjoy the culinary ride:

Gofres. Translation: "Piping hot, chocolate and ice-cream covered waffles of divine goodness." Healthy because of strawberries. You must get these if you come to Europe.

Bo de B: The sandwich place that would roundhouse kick Jared from Subway in the face. Piles of fresh ingredients, meat cooked in front of you, a warm baguette, and maybe a seat if you're lucky. Downside: Up to an hour wait because they take their sweet, sweet time. 3.50 euro sandwich.

The Chris and Megan specialty: rice, vegetables, and something else with a good sauce. We do this most nights here in the Melon District, and it costs about 4 euro each for a full dinner. High fives for rewarding labor!

Spain runs on Doner. The Turkish, meat off a revolving barbecue stick treat. Watch as the friendly workers SHAVE the meat of the stick, pack it inside a pita and serve with spicy sauce. 

Chocolate and churros. The chocolate: not to sweet, but warm and delicious. The churros - numerous, but hardly guilt instilling. We're studying abroad...gotta live a little. 

Ok, this may be living too much. Francesinha in Portugal: A reminder, that's egg, cheese, bacon, steak, ham, roast beef, gravy, and french fries. Multiple layers of each = multiple layers of love. And bathroom trips.

In Porto, you eat cheaper than in Barcelona. This was a 5 course meal of tender meat, veggs, rice and desert for 7 euro. There were only 3 tables in the restaurant. Who needs customers!

18 words: Can't remember exactly what this was, but chocolate and ice cream and this must have been really good. Oh yeah.

Fish with the head and eyes intact. And bones. Spaniards make you work hard with these bony fish. Tip: If you're on a diet, make eating difficult!

Bone-free cod filet with mashed peas underneath. Creative, eh?

Braised beef made into a potato tower with Port wine sauce. Very good. Thanks Mom.

Megan claims this ice cream filled chocolate crepe was "the best desert ever." Snopes.com: Verified.

Risotto, cheese, mushroom...all that jazz.

Argentine Entrecot Steak...I was jealous of Megan for this one. It looked good.

But this chicken curry with a cool rice tower was hard to top.

Some more cod action. Spain likes dat fish.

6 people, many desert options - all went with the banana and chocolate crepe.

Patatas bravas...this is a dish muy española. It's goodness depends on it's presentation. The strategy: how well can I present this to hide the fact that it's spicy mayonnaise sauce on french fry squares? With tooth picks and a cool plate?

Or with a squirt bottle and an Ikea dish on sale.

I can't take credit for this photo, but I can take credit for having eaten "Pulpo a la Gallega" many times. It's fresh octopus with some tasty spice. It's always a go-to tapa when I grab a menu. What can I say...it's better than it looks?

While my foodventures aren't quite complete here in Barcelona, I can say with certainty that the food here is great. It has plenty to offer and the restaurants present themselves well. Sometimes it's hard to tell a fancy restaurant from an Applebees equivalent because they all go can pass for fancy and classy. For me at least. If you ever make your way here...budget to eat and eat well.

One final note, There is one thing Barcelona desperately lacks:

Burritos.

The Café con Leche

The remains of a successful café con leche...

Maybe it's just a latte. I really don't know, and I could really care less. All I know about this drink is that it makes me feel like I'm in Spain. It's 1 part milk, a couple parts espresso, and some sugar, but what it symbolizes during the day in Spain is much more significant.

I would not say that I was a coffee drinker before I came to Spain, and I still might not be when I head back. Here though, coffee-haters and lovers both fall for the café con leche.

In the US, coffee is too often the drink to grab and go. Could you imagine Starbucks handing you a coffee in a ceramic mug? What's more, could you imagine it being smaller than not just a Grande, but a Tall? All I know is that I used to occasionally go for a Grande latté, and now that seems like an ocean of coffee.

To order a café con leche, the directions are simple - walk into anywhere, literally anywhere, and ask for one. Don't be fooled when they give you two huge packets of sugar (that's too much), and don't expect it to be in a to-go cup. In fact, many places, when asked for coffee to-go, will give you a weird look and put your drink in a cardboard cup with a lid without a place to drink from. That's right - they force you to either use a straw or sit the heck down somewhere and enjoy your coffee.

The DeGennaro's get in on it too...how about that foam?

I imagine Spaniards have a couple cafés throughout the day. For me, it's a once a day thing. Most of the time, my café con leche break is pretty sacred. I'll go with Megan or some friends to a local cafe and order one with a croissant. When we find a particularly good café, Megan has even been keeping the sugar packets as souvenirs.  That's because our time here is so well signified by the habitual café con leche that it's worth remembering.

Why? You might have to see for yourself. There is something about sitting down at a tiny table, taking in the people around you, trying to pick up Catalan words, and making the café last by taking tiny sips...it's much more rewarding than power-walking late to class with a Grande something and heart palpitations. Now I know in some circles in the US, coffee is complementary to a newspaper. They do that here too, but after the morning it's almost always a social activity**.

When I go back to the US, I'll probably try to recreate the café con leche experience. My mornings in Berkeley are normally mad rushes, quick showers and breakfast on the go. It's a pretty hectic start to the day. After 3 months in Spain, I think it's definitely worth taking 30 minutes out of the day to enjoy a cup of coffee. Maybe not for the taste, or not even for the caffeine boost after a late study night, but the time to get your head together and start the day stress free. One of the things Spain teaches you without fail is how to relax. Tranquilo, hermano. 


(**This article is directed to other students like myself. I don't exactly know how responsible adults spend their mornings nor in what situations they drink coffee.)

"Yes, of course I prefer a café con leche to a much needed shower" - Chris Severn

Barce-mom-a!

Hey all! Sorry for the sparse blog updates as of late. I plan to make some posts this week that fill you in on some of the highlights of March so far.

As many of you know, my Mom got here on Thursday and we've had a great time showing her around the city. I must admit, the Georgian-Californian-that-hasn't-been-to-Europe-before has done surprisingly well adapting to la vida española. The first day, we met her and Margaret and Sigrid at their hotel and walked them around a main street called Passeig de Gracia. It was nice to see her after over 2 months here and have a slice of home over in Barcelona. We were excited to impress her with our improved Spanish skills by saving her in situations of ordering food, asking how much things cost, etc...but she never really needed our help! She wasn't hesitant at all to walk right up to a Spaniard and test their English skills. We taught her how to ask for the bill - "la cuenta, por favor señor" - and she got it on the first try.

Unfortunately, the weather is the worst since we've been here - constantly rainy and cold. For that reason, we've decided to eat our way through Barcelona. We've gone out to get Spanish tapas, Basque tapas, chocolate covered waffles, chocolate in general...we even decided to keep within the theme by visiting the museum of chocolate! Since it's pretty hard to see the sights with it constantly raining, we took consolation in seeing them all in their chocolate sculpture form.

We've had fun showing her around our daily life here - taking the metro to our school, showing her the apartment building, taking her to our favorite cafe for a cafe con leche - and we've gotten used to having her around. It's going to be hard to say goodbye on Tuesday. Hopefully these pictures give you an idea of what we've been up to in the last few days!

Chocolate and churros - first afternoon in Barcelona. So good.

Night time in Plaza Catalunya. Before the rain came down all night and all day.

Purse pals. This is at a great Basque country-themed Tapas restaurant. 

Me and Mom on las Ramblas. 

In front of the Boqueria. We were really excited to show her around the market. Definitely one of the must see sights here in Barcelona.

Fruits, candy, fish...anything you want, cheap and fresh. 

You may start to notice a chocolate pattern. Don't judge. A vacation is a vacation...right?

Me and Megan outside our apartment building - Melon District! "A place to live" - Really? Is that the best slogan you could come up with?

Our tickets to the chocolate museum were made out of, well, you guessed it - chocolate! More more more!

One of the main sights in Barcelona - in chocolate! We saw the real one too, so don't worry. It was bigger but far less edible.

Very, very good pizza in the Borne neighborhood today. 

Two and a half more days with her here in Barcelona - I'll may sure to keep you posted! 

Now for a Post about Barcelona

So I realized that with all these travels, I haven't gotten to post much about Barcelona lately. Now that midterms week is over, I'll update you on some of the things that have been going on. We went to Tarragona today (a city known for its Roman ruins dating back before Christ) but that's a blog post in itself. Carnaval is going on too. That involves people everywhere putting on costumes for 3 days straight and throwing parades in the streets. I'll also make a post about that once I get pictures up tomorrow. For now, here's an interesting little side story to my trip here.

Barcelona doesn't always give you what you'd expect. For instance, I didn't expect when I got here that the cheap take-out food common around the neighborhood would be Turkish. Doner Kebabs to be exact. They involve a slow roasted chicken being buzz-sawed off and tucked inside Pita bread with spicy sauce, tomato and lettuce. Here, these Turkish bar/restaurants are often run by Indian, Pakistani or Bangladeshi immigrants.

After I had visited the small restaurant on my block cleverly titled "Falafel Bar Doner Restaurant Kebabs" a couple times, the workers there started to recognize me. Really, they don't have that many customers come through each day. Now, I know 2 of the workers there by name - Abdul and Rasheed, and I know one of their friends that hangs around named Kawal (or something close...) While Abdul takes his sweet time layering my Doner Kebab with spicy sauce, chicken then lettuce (repeat), Abdul teaches me Urdu.

Why? He just does. It's pretty fun. He told me that he's been in Barcelona for 7 years, while the other two have been there fewer. He speaks Spanish well, so it's easiest to talk with him. Barcelona is only made up of 10 percent immigrants, and they're practically all from the last 20 years. That means that immigration is still young here, and Barcelonans aren't the most welcoming to it. For this reason, immigrants are eager to talk to other immigrants, as well as other tourists that come in to their restaurants since everyone belongs in the group of "not being Spanish native." That's my guess at least. Here's how my Urdu (the language spoken in Pakistan and parts of India) is coming:

Meredoh, kyal hal hai? (Friend, how are you?)

(Tee hoon) Very good

Ec kebab...merunguee. maharbanee. (One kebab...chicken...please)

I'll keep you posted on the progress I make with my new, unlikely friends. Stay tuned for more posts this week!

Cuentito #5 - Outsmarting a Pickpocketer

Quick thing to add on for the day: I survived a pickpocketing attempt with no financial harm.

Here are some techniques that most pickpocketers on the subway utilize:

1. Take advantage of a distraction, or create one yourself.
2. Make the move right before reaching a stop so you have a quick escape.
3. Pick a metro car filled with people during rush hour.
4. Wear some comfortable running shoes.

That's right where I found myself. Megan and I were nearing our stop to go home and the metro was packed. The train stopped more abruptly than normal, and all of us clumped together kind of fell forward to keep our balance. As we fell, everyone grabbed hold of anything to keep them upright. Behind me, I could feel someone with one hand pushing on my back and the other down my back pocket. I had to catch my balance before I could turn around, and people had already started exiting the metro. I didn't see who it could have been, but there was an old man and another woman that saw it happen. They came up to me and asked if he got anything.

Verdict: I listened to CIEE and started keeping my wallet in my front pocket. Take that, dirty thief! Next time I'll just keep a piece of paper in my back pocket that says "Gotcha." 

Morocco on a Bungee Cord

No, no, no, I didn't go bungee jumping in Morocco (I wasn't presented with the opportunity). What I'm referring to is the way I felt visiting Marrakesh this weekend for 3 days. Morocco - although it's only a 2 hour flight from Barcelona and separated by 15 kilometers of water from Spain - is a completely different world. It's a developing country but boasts the most democratic government and fastest growing economy in North Africa, but it's a spectacular clash between third world and something akin to Las Vegas. I learned this weekend that even though the minimum wage is 200 euros a month, you have to prove liquid assets of 15,000 euros to travel to Europe. It costs 50 euros a month for gas and electric. You have to pay to send your kids to any high school. Oh, and it costs 35,000 euros to buy an apartment in the city of Marrakesh. So what I mean by being on a "bungee cord in Morocco" is that I had the opportunity not just to gaze at the fishbowl but take a swim, dry off, and leave. For the 31 million inhabitants and 300,000 Marrakeshians in this oddly shaped Arabic country in North Africa, there is no chance to go back to Barcelona. Or the U.S. I guess the most interesting part of the tourist spectacle in the center of Marrakesh is that it starts over every day, and this is the way they live their lives.

We arrived in Marrakesh after an early morning flight Friday and headed straight for the Choia Choia Riad (small Moroccan hotel). Although we knew the Riad was supposed to be nice, we didn't expect to have to walk through a labyrinth of back alley streets to reach the inconspicuous front door. Almost all Riads and many houses in Morocco have a central, open air patio in the middle of the house. The top floor (usually the third) is a rooftop terrace good for hanging out during the warm nights. We had our first customary cups of tea on the terrace of Choia Choia and made plans for the day.

We spent Friday walking around the city and taking it all in. We visited a palace built in 1500 by the Sultan of Morocco and wandered through it's underground passages and the Saadian tombs that date back to 1600, but the most interesting part by far was passing through the souks (open-air markets) and the main plaza Djemaa el Fna. Djemaa el Fna is something you have to see to believe - it's a huge plaza filled with tents that sell orange juice, snake charmers playing to their cobras, dancers, and impromptu restaurants at night. Picture a State Fair, make it Arabic, add snakes and monkeys, and then remember it happens every night of the year. The thing about walking through the plaza is that you can't just look, you have to participate. Walking through means getting yelled at by orange vendors to go to theirs and not the others, being approached by snake-wielding thieves (they put a snake on you behind your back and make you pay to get it off), and dancers that confront you asking for money if you take a picture. Tourism is their main industry and they fight hard for cash.

Even though you have to pay often, it's normally in small amounts. Morocco is cheap when it comes to souvenirs and food. Our first day, we ate a feast of lamb, chicken, and cous-cous for 8 euros each, and we only paid less for the rest of the trip. The food was great and we were adventurous. Most notably, everyone at the table tried chicken liver and had a hard time getting it down. Once we trusted the restaurant, we pretty much ate everything in front of us without asking questions.

The best day by far was Saturday. We each paid 45 euros to take a full day trip into the Ourika Valley and Atlas Mountains that border the city. A group of 10 of us headed for the snow-capped peaks by way of massive van. We were accompanied by a Brazilian and a friendly EU commissioner from Holland on vacation. Our guide, Mustafa, led us into a Berber village up the road and brought us into their house. The Berbers are the mountain people of Morocco that rarely come down into the city. We were welcomed in and treated to bread, tea, and an insider's look at how they lived. They didn't seem to have electricity and had just gotten running water. They kept a cow downstairs to make milk for the day, and they ate lots of cous-cous (a cheap staple).

From there, we headed for the camels. Each of us got (pretty randomly) selected for one of the 6 camels available. It turns out that Megan got a camel that had recently given birth and we later found out had a broken leg. To say the least, her camel walked like it had a wedgie and she was bouncing around the whole time. For the rest of us, there were tall and reputable camels to take us on a 20 minute trail back into the hills. It was fun, and now I can say I've ridden a camel! Megan also had the chance to interact with a wild monkey when she went to the bathroom in a restaurant nearby. I was jealous!

We then headed to a traditional Moroccan pharmacy where they taught us about herbal remedies and various concoctions. I'll skip that part not because it was suspicious but since it wasn't that exciting.

We capped off the day by hiking back 45 minutes towards a waterfall surrounded by high cliffs. This area was beautiful, and we ended up eating close to there in the Ourika Valley. I'll never forget the view from the restaurant. Even though Morocco and Marrakesh feels like a desert, there in the valley we had a view of red rock mountains, bright green trees, blue skies and white snowcapped peaks in the background. Not to mention the food was great and included in the trip's cost. That night, we were pretty tired and headed to the market to eat then went back to swim in Megan's Riad's indoor, heated pool.

Sunday was our last day there. Like many of you parents heard, there were riots in Morocco that day, but I would call them protests instead. We didn't know these were going to take place in our city until the day before we left. All in all, they were peaceful especially towards tourists because Marrakesh is a small city and we are its GDP. It was interesting because there were plenty tourists having coffee outside on the street next to the protests and being completely ignored. The movement was about protesting the high cost of living, the overly-centralized government, and the misuse of public funds. More so, it was about imitating and harnessing the spirit of rebellion that's permeating throughout North Africa.

Although that day we walked around the city as some of the shops were still open, we didn't do too much. I bought a Moroccan belt and wooden carved box for 10 euro and we walked around a bit. At night, all of the shops closed early because there was another protest planned on the other side of town. During the night protest, a McDonalds, a bank, and a clothing store were all looted. I know it wasn't the best weekend to be in Morocco, but it's notable that all of this took place far away from the tourist section of the city. These problems are the country's own, so the two sides involved are solely the government and the people of Morocco. In the Riad that night, an older man named Rasheed working at the hotel talked to me, Megan and Dave for about an hour. He told us that even though we might not suspect it, Moroccans are looking out for us tourists. He said that they consider the safety of the tourists above their own, especially during the protesting. That night, he also made us tea and gave us bread for free since we couldn't go get food ourselves (everything was closed).

The one thing Moroccans will do, though, is haggle tourists to the bone. Dave bought traditional Moroccan slippers for 15 Euro (pretty good price) after initially being asked 35 euro. Rasheed told us that he would never be asked more than 6 euro for the same shoes. They know how to get you!

As we left early Monday morning, I was wishing for a couple days more. Marrakesh wakes you up and intrigues you. I'd recommend it to anyone, especially since it's such a different experience and it felt safer than you would expect. The mountains, the camels, the unlimited cous-couse, private Riad and hot sun - what more could you want?

Me on my small but muscular and sturdy camel.

An idea of the market during the day. After our friend Inge took this picture, she was confronted and had to pay 3 euro!

Eating at the market at night! There are 40 of those food tents set up and taken down each night.

Megan fearing for her life on a broken camel.

The view behind us at the restaurant....

The six guys in our private Riad.

Wild monkey curious of digital photography. 

View from the Berber house we visited.

Treated to tea, bread, homemade honey and butter at the Berber house.

Me and Megan atop the ruins of the Sultan's palace.

Two camels for the price of one!

Megan mistaking the monkey for me. 

An idea of a Souk - a hole in the wall hotbed for intense negotiating.

Me, Megan and Ben at the rooftop restaurant on the first day.

This woman made tea in front of us and performed the "tea ceremony." From what I could gather, the tea ceremony involves pouring liquid from impressive heights.

Lamps,  anyone?

The huge courtyard of the 16th century Palace.

The central mosque at sunset.

A view of the mountains bordering one side of the city.

Our food the first day - lamb, chicken, and cous-cous. It tasted better than it looks. 

Me, Dave and Ben at the ruins.

The woman that cooked our dinner at the outdoor market. Fortunately, she did not proceed to eat from the big sppon.

Me and Megan at the waterfall.

The Arabic Coke label. Add that one to your collection, Durwood!

Lastly, the impressive view from our restaurant.

This weekend - staying in Barcelona. It's been a while since I wrote about being here! More to come.