See You From Berlin!

Well my friends, the time has come.  After much money spent, intense planning and time anxiously awaited, it’s finally time for a holiday trip!  Tomorrow (meaning later today) Amy and I will leave bright and early for Berlin.  We’ll stay with Sami and celebrate Christmas and New Year’s in traditional German fashion.  Then we’ll journey to Prague for the beginning of 2010.  On the way back we’ll part ways, with me venturing to London for a day and Amy to Belguim for a night. 

   

I’ll definitely have internet access at Sami’s apartment, but may not while in the other cities.  So I’ll try to post about my trip while in Berlin, along with a few other Navidad updates from Spain as well.  However, if I can’t you can be sure to find updates when I get back.  Either way, try not to miss me too much ;)  See you in BERLIN!

Besos,

B

A Midnight Rendezvous

I can’t help but think, perhaps European guys have it easier.  At least when it comes to pursuing matters of the heart with American girls.  After all, they only need to work with what they already have in order to woo: a sexy accent, the ability to say titillating things in languages we can’t understand and access to the random thousand year old castle here and there.  Allow me to explain…

  

Saturday night began as normal as any other: a short siesta followed by a merienda of pan, tomate y olives, then a birthday party.  However, said party was a little less than lively, so The Spaniard turned and asked me if I’d like to leave and do something else.  While discussing the possibilities, he interjected, “would you like to go see a castle?  It’s really beautiful at night.”  My answer, of course, was an enthusiastic “YES!”

  

So we visited a small pueblo named Los Baños de la Encina, which is located about 30 to 40 minutes outside of Jaen and dates back one thousand years.  It’s as picturesque as any postcard of an old-town European city: cobble stoned streets, antique street lamps, tiny balconies and overall gorgeous views.  Overlooking the pueblo is a large castle, which is illuminated in a soft golden light at night.  Throughout history, the Spaniards used this castle to defend themselves against the Moors, the British and the French.  Today it serves as a hotel, restaurant and tourist attraction, as do many other castles in this region.  And located next door to the castle is a grand cathedral.  Although it was -2 degress celcius, the entire experience was...enchanting (so sorry to be cliched). 

  

And here’s a fun fact I bet you didn’t know: Spain’s Andalucia region has the most castles out of any other region in Europe.  You learn something new everyday (although its usually not about castles!)

Besos,

B

La Noche Buena

‘Tis the season for many things: holiday cheer, family & friends, divine food and perhaps the most fabulous of all, celebrations and dinner parties!  Christmas came early this year since we’ll all depart to various locales for the actual day.  So last Friday, everyone gathered once again in my piso to celebrate Navidad with a potluck dinner party entitled, “La Noche Buena.”

  

Although it was rainy, windy and generally dreary outside, the piso quickly filled with laughter and cheer.  The first part of the night served as a cocktail hour, complete with a variety of Spanish appetizers, vinto tinto and cerveza.  After everyone had mixed and mingled, Amy and I retreated to the kitchen to finish preparing the main course.  Dinner was served fresh and it just so happened the plates were completely cleaned at the end.  Finally, we slowly but surely made it to the sweetest part of the night around 1 a.m.: dessert.  Afterwards the obligatory food coma did ensue, as we all rested in the living room and debated whether or not to venture out into the rain for a night of bar hopping. 

  

For the most part, the night went decidedly smooth: the food was delicious, people enjoyed themselves and there was no shortage of wine.  However, every dinner party has that one glitch or flaw, and it just so happens that this one could have been disasterous.  I’d been searching restlessly for an interesting yet feasible chicken recipe for the main course, when I found the perfect one: baked chicken in a spicy sweet honey glaze.  The day of the dinner party I bought all the ingredients, including two whole chickens.  Since I’d never made the recipe before, I decided to test it out on a single chicken breast for lunch.  After 15 minutes I open the oven to find cold, still raw chicken.  Yes, my friends, out of all the 365 days in the year, my oven picked the day of La Noche Buena celebration to break.  And I was stuck with two chickens.  But, Amy came to the rescue, offering chicken thighs instead.  So, with my innovative, culinary-inspired mind, I decided to marinate the chicken just the same, wrap it in foil and cook it on the stove-top instead.  Although the night didn’t unfold exactly as planned, it still tasted delicious.  But I’m still wondering, the eff am I supposed to do with two whole chickens?? 

  

All in all the night was a success.  To end the indecisiveness of “to go out or not to go out,” El Jefe (in true American Pee-ay style) made a proposition that Amy couldn’t refuse.  Whoever won said proposition would decide how to end the night.  True to his name, El Jefe de Jaen won and it was finally decided that we’d all go to sleep.  Thank you everyone for another successful evening.  And special thanks goes to las mamas de los chicos, who I’m sure had a hand in preparing some of the night’s cuisine ;)

Spanish appetizers, vino y cerveza (yes that is my hand reaching for the wine)

La cena de Navidad

I hope your holiday celebrations are just as wonderful!  Merry Christmas and Feliz Navidad!

Besos,

B

Pure Decadence

Meet my newest love affair: the gofre.  Its a silly little name given to one of the most decadent treats my taste buds have ever experienced.  Its the Spanish version of the famed Belgian waffle: warm, sweet and completely irresistible.  Showered in hot chocolate syrup and fluffy whipped cream, this is the perfect compliment to the long list of cafes available (as pictured above).  Amy and I discovered gofres last week at La Cafetera, a small cafe conveniently located only a two minute walk from my piso.  Since then we have gone back three times and even made friends with the waiter.  Actually just writing this post is igniting my craving.  Perhaps its time to continue my love affair with my fourth visit this week ;)

Besos,

B

*Photo courtesy of Amy.

The Ick Factor: American Cynicism and Spanish Romance

In order to fully understand this post, I feel its appropriate to reference my favorite TV show, "Sex and the City."  During season six Carrie begins dating the famed Russian artist and playboy, Aleksander Petrovsky.  They're from two completely different worlds; hers is a world filled with Manolos, cosmopolitans and glamour, set to the backdrop of modern New York City.  His is a world filled with art, international travel and intellectualism.  They converge in a romance filled with passion, but not many shared interests.  One of their prominent differences is how they approach romantic relationships.  Being from Europe, "The Russian" showed his affection through grand romantic gestures (i.e. - poems, writing love songs, etc.  See video clip below: skip ahead to 2:14).  However, as a modern American gal, Carrie found it difficult to stomach his sweet romantic gestures.
 

 
While its true that I've often thought of myself as the missing member of SATC, I never quite thought I'd be living out my own version in this particular manner.  A couple of weeks ago I met a handsome Spanish gentleman at Bariloche who I'll refer to as "The Spaniard."  Since then, the romance that has ensued would leave you thinking you were watching a Danielle Steel novel unfold: a single long stemmed red rose and decadent chocolate truffles on the first date; an endless shower of compliments containing metaphors that seem to be penned by Shakespeare; seranades of Spanish love songs; pulling over on the roadside for a slow dance...and the list goes on.
 
Looking back, I realize that I spent most of that first date festering in my own cynicism, trying to figure out The Spaniard's alterior motives.  After all, if an American guy professed to me, "you have the face of an angel," I would probably eloquently reply, "fuck off."  Pardon my French.  Needless to say, when it comes to Spanish romance, I found that I was more than a little lost.
 
Now whether you believe these "grand romantic gestures" are a true proclomation of feelings, or something else just for show, what this really boils down to is cultural differences.  A friend of mine, who is Hispanic-American, assured me that everything I was experiencing is normal within Spanish-Latin culture.  After all, its a culture known of its passion, and the expression of that passion is considered natural.  It can be found everywhere: the language, the music, the food and in romance.  On the other hand, American culture is strongly influenced by British culture, which is infamous for being cold, closed and reserved.  And today more than ever, we are a nation of cynics.  

So after yet another intricate compliment, seeping in sweetness, I explained to The Spaniard that I am American, and not quite sure I can stomach this.  He looked at me startled and confused, which propmpted further explanation into American culture and the common notion that "romance" is dead.  At the end of my explanation, he asked one simple question: how do you flirt with someone you like if you don't tell them how you feel?  Sometimes its the simplest answers that make the most sense.  This made me think that I've been so tangled in my web of American cynicism that I couldn't recognize that a little Spanish romance can actually be a good thing.
 

It's too much!  "I'm an American!"

 

At last...laughing with romance and not at it.

Besos,
B

"Cada Noche, Bariloche"

Flashing lights, pulsating music and con mis manos al aire (with hands in the air), its more than easy for me to close my eyes and loose myself (and possibly my whole night) in a dancing haze fueled by pure adrenaline.  And as the saying goes, there's no better place to go for this than Bariloche, cada noche.

Someone once told me, "Spaniards aren't good at working, but they're very good at partying."  And after adjusting to the Spanish lifestyle, I've seen first hand that this is a true statement.  Spanish nightlife is quite different from the nightlife at home.  Instead of going out hard for a few short hours, Spaniards enjoy...prolonging the night's festivities.  If you go out around 11 or midnight, its considered normal to return home around 7 am.  So no one gives you a second look when you're standing in front of your piso rummaging in your clutch for your keys, while still dressed to the nines as the morning paper is delivered and the sun begins to rise.  Jaen has many options for a night of bar hopping, but I can always count on one particular hot spot to end each night and begin the following morning: Bariloche.

Bariloche is a popular discoteca with an Indian-Middle Eastern theme: a far East flair, giant chandeliers with deep red glass fixtures and giant Buddha statues overlooking the dance floor.  Also presiding over the dance floor is the DJ, who always pumps an energy-packed mix of house, latin and a few American songs.  The 7-10 euro entrada (depending on the day of the week) will buy your way in and a free drink.

Last Saturday around 4 a.m., with a vodka and redbull high, we decided as usual to make the cold treck to Bariloche.  Although it's a large space and usually tightly packed, we found our own space to dance.  The night seemed to be unfolding normally until a few scantily clad go-go dancers took to the bar and made it their stage.  They were "dressed" in bright white spandex and accessorized only with multi-colored body glitter as a tease.  They hyped up the crowd with their crazy and sexy moves while sparkling confetti rained down from somewhere above.

After another successful night, we began to wander home, stopping briefly for delicious kebobs at a hole in the wall Middle Eastern place, creatively named "Kebob."  True to form, the morning papers were delivered just as we finished eating, and the sun began to rise as I kicked off my heels, shook the confetti out of my hair and finally closed my eyes.

Besitos,
B