Beyond Tapas: Why One Falls in Love with Spain (SPAIN - part 3 of 3)

Let me return for a moment to the continent of Europe; our one day transit to Morocco didn't leave me enough time to fully metabolize Spain. Here are a few of the more spectacular recollections from my days spent there.

The Cádiz Fish Market is tucked at the back of the Plaza de Flores (the Plaza of Flowers). Everything in this covered, parking lot sized market was alive and kicking (or recently was), from the wriggling crawfish and gemstone blocks of ruby tuna and marble swordfish, to the energetic vendors and customers, exchanging jokes and greetings as often as prices.

The vendors are charmingly personal in their interaction with customers. Within the auction-house of a fish market, I stopped at a compact fruit stall for an apple. The young, thin vendor peered down upon me, "Which one?". He waved theatrically towards two varieties packed in weathered, wooden crates behind him, red or pale green. "La más dulce de los dos?"I ventured. With a smile, he plucked a green, lopsided specimen, perfect and unique amongst the masses, and passed it over to me for inspection. The apple was crisp, slightly sweet, but mostly tart and yielded a thoroughly satisfying crunch. Throughout the market, this same care and enthusiasm was exhibited behind every transaction, each one magical to witness.

Spanish hospitality is genuine without embellishment. Despite their generally dispassionate expressions, the Spaniards are a generous bunch and were appreciative if not impressed by my faltering Spanish ability. Although my audio recordings with Javier confirmed my frightfully American accent, the locals welcomed my attempts to communicate, and words soon flowed out comfortably under their carefree guidance. By the end, I was seeking out any unthreatening person to practice on, storeowners, waiters, fellow travelers, patrons seated at sidewalk cafes, and even a shy, pre-adolescent boy who was obsessed with my friend's enticingly long, blond hair.

A NOTABLE DISH
The Cádiz Cathedral square is lovely and open, fenced in on three sides by tapas bars and cafeterías with the grand outline of the Cathedral forming the fourth edge. Students and children, dogs as well for that matter, love to gather at the Cathedral steps or in the courtyard seating to await their tapas. Curiously, it also happened to contribute free wifi ("wee-fee"as the Spanish pronounce it). A group of us set off one evening to take advantage of the Lord's generosity, making our way down to the Cathedral past dinner time. A full belly signifies nothing in Spain and we extended our dinner with a plate of huevos con gambas (scrambled egg with shrimp) to ward off the chilly evening. What arrived a short time later was so much more than simply eggs and shrimp. How anyone would have thought to scramble together so many delicious ingredients for an end-product masterpiece and grandly entitle it "eggs and shrimp"was beyond our comprehension. Eggs, softly scrambled in a quaffable olive oil with incredibly fresh shrimp were additionally bolstered by boiled green beans, fried garlic bits, baby wedges of sauteed potatoes, and pickled turnip or onion with a smattering of chopped parsley. We were still digging for new ingredients by the end of dish. Halfway through our meal it began to pour. Buckets of rain flooded our feet and the raindrops danced, drumming against the awning above. We huddled closer together unperturbed, enjoying the yuppie comfort food in front of us.

HELADO y DULCES
WIthin the first two hours of setting foot in Spain, we were already headed for the ice creams. On the open waters, a $1.50 malty soft-serve piled in a stale cone is suitable perhaps for nausea, but low-ranking within the recovered taste-bud circle. Heladerías are about half as prevalent as cafés, meaning that there are quite a few to choose from, and may also be tacked alongside a bakery. Orders come in one, two, or three "bolas"(scoops) for about 1-4 Euros. The ice cream was nothing remarkable to speak of, identical to gelato from Italy, creamier, smoother, denser, and more melty than ice cream from a box. All quite tasty to be sure, but what truly stuck out were the delicate, wafery-thin cones cradling each melting orb. The crispiness reminded me of the tri-colored Mother's Brand sugar wafers from childhood and the flavor was full of authentic eggy, buttery goodness. I sampled pistachio, which I wanted to like more than I actually did, and yogurt, which I actually enjoyed more than I planned on doing so. The yogurt flavor captured the tartness of fresh plain yogurt, lightly sweetened, or otherwise describable as Pinkberry-manifested gelato (an excellent marriage). One of my traveling companions even managed to become a regular within three days at her favorite joint, always with the same daily order.

Sweets and desserts in general are not a national phenomenon in Spain, however the city of Seville has made a name in the international sweets market. I was welcomed out of Seville's train station by streets lined with an army of orange trees, spread across the entire city. Initially, I mourned the prolifically fallen, unclaimed fruit but would soon discover that while the oranges are famous for making marmalade, they are too bitter to be eaten raw. The fruit fuels Britain's jam industry in support of their afternoon tea addiction and as a local proudly told me, the British supposedly import "all"of Seville's orange crops. Lucky for them as the jam did not seem so readily popular with the Spaniards. The orange globes created a beautiful festive backdrop to the city wherever we went. You can tell whether an orange is a sweet or bitter variety by examining the stem immediately protruding from the fruit. If the stem is thick and slightly flattened, looking more like a thin extra leaf rather than a round twig-like stem, then the oranges are bitter.

And now, back to Africa.