Since our return from Mallorca we have fallen into a nice rhythm here. We have all been enjoying leisurely mornings at El Rincón, even Curtis has taken to starting his day with a café con leché. He´s even started smoking his sugar packet when he´s done.
Yesterday it was 40C (104F) and we were feeling the heat here in Madrid. This afternoon we will board the train to Granada where people tell us its hot. Our time here is coming to an end with this week divided between the towns Granada and Cordoba and then another week in Madrid before we return home. We are of mixed feelings, excited to go home and sorry to have to leave.
Guernica
One of the main reasons tourists (like me) visit the Reina Sophia museum is to see Picasso´s "Guernica". But, like the Mona Lisa, the Sistine Chapel or Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, there are so many other people in the room that you really can´t appreciate what you are there to see. Instead one resorts to taking pictures which, unlike most museums, the Reina Sophia allows. So, there I was standing in the crowd looking at this enormous painting and I decided to take pictures of other people´s pictures. This person seems to have gotten a good one to take back with her to Italy.
Reina Sofia
Madrid 2009 379
Originally uploaded by MacYam
Serrano vs. Ibérico
We have this little shop down the street, right around the corner from our apartment where we taste meats. The proprietor is a lovely man who delights in showing us the varieties of cured hams, salamies and cheeses that he has in his tiny storefront and he always chides Antonia for not eating meat. Then he gives her candy. When the shop isn´t busy he does not hesitate to dole out slices for us to sample. In the morning he is hanging out in front of his shop as we pass by on our way to El Rincón for our café con leche. He waves enthusiastically and speaks to me, like I have a bad head injury, very loud and slowly with lots of exagerated gestures. Everyone on the street feels sorry and wonders about the old man with the two children.
Today we went back for a taste test. There are principly two kinds of cured hams, Serrano and Ibérico. Jamón serrano is "mountain cured" in the fresh air at high altitudes. (Or in a refrigerated cellar in some wherehouse in Madrid) Jamón Ibérico is also called pata negra (black leg) from the black Ibérian pig believed to be a descendant of the wild boar. The best Ibérico is fed exclusively on wild, autumn acorns. We got a run down on the two varieties and what part of the leg these cuts come from and went home with 100 grams of each. Guess what, they´re both good but Amanda and Curtis prefered the serrano.
I have read that the Spanish lust for ham is the result of their kicking the Jews and the Arabs out of Spain. In the 1600´s, once the Spaniards were free of those semites with all their dietary restrictions, the people of Spain began to eat pork with wild abandon, a sort of declaration of independence.
Today we went back for a taste test. There are principly two kinds of cured hams, Serrano and Ibérico. Jamón serrano is "mountain cured" in the fresh air at high altitudes. (Or in a refrigerated cellar in some wherehouse in Madrid) Jamón Ibérico is also called pata negra (black leg) from the black Ibérian pig believed to be a descendant of the wild boar. The best Ibérico is fed exclusively on wild, autumn acorns. We got a run down on the two varieties and what part of the leg these cuts come from and went home with 100 grams of each. Guess what, they´re both good but Amanda and Curtis prefered the serrano.
I have read that the Spanish lust for ham is the result of their kicking the Jews and the Arabs out of Spain. In the 1600´s, once the Spaniards were free of those semites with all their dietary restrictions, the people of Spain began to eat pork with wild abandon, a sort of declaration of independence.
Union Maid
We couldn´t help but think of the tradeswomen in our lives (in particular our beloved Worker Anne) when we came across these bags of union-made concrete mix. Although we have yet to see any women working in the construction industry here in Spain, we enjoyed the way the female laborer is depicted on the bag. As the bag says, always wear gloves to protect your hands but beyond that, worksite dress code is up to you. Bare midriff and shorts? You bet, girl! And, as Antonia was quick to notice, the union maid who is truly in solidarity with the cause has her breast tatooed with the same logo as her hard hat.
Reina Sofia
This picture was in the Reina Sofia when we went yesterday. This is a print that we saw I think it was by a Mexican artist. (José Guiterrez Solana, "Máscaras de los cencerros") I got really cofused when I looked at it. The man on the left in the back holding the Toilet Plunger, Bell kind of thing, and the man on the right holding the Broom are real. They are holding dummies, in which case it looks like one person is on the other person's back. We thought this would be a cool Holloween costume, so we took the picture.
-Antonia
-Antonia
Curtis falling off the walls of Toledo
Just in case you missed this I wanted everybody to see photographic evidence of the day Antonia pushed me of a wall in Toledo. When she realized that Greg was taking a picture she pretended to help me. Just wanted to sort this out.
-Curtis
-Curtis
Antonia with Julio's butt
We noticed that of all the pictures on our flicker account this one has the most views (16). Are you looking at Antonia or Julio's bare ass?
-Curtis
-Curtis
The Egyptian origins of jamon serrano
This afternoon, after a swim and a bite of döner kabab, we went to the Museo Arqueológico Nacional. There we sought out the finer artifacts that had been looted from the ancient sites that we visited on Mallorca. And there they were, bronze heads of bulls and small terracotta figurines from neighboring Ibiza. (Click on this photo to get to the others) This just added to the mystery for me. Who were these cowboy Talyots who could only manage to build rough mounds of stone but also cast these fine figures in bronze?
Perhaps more importantly, we discovered hieroglyphic evidence of the Egyptian origins of jamon serrano. There it was, in the Egyptian wing, carved in stone, a slave presenting the Pharaoh with a leg of ham, just like the ones we see in the deli down the street.
Perhaps more importantly, we discovered hieroglyphic evidence of the Egyptian origins of jamon serrano. There it was, in the Egyptian wing, carved in stone, a slave presenting the Pharaoh with a leg of ham, just like the ones we see in the deli down the street.
Plaza Ildefonso
Last night we took our dinner to the streets like many of our neighbors. Every evening groups of mostly young people gather on the square to share a beer and some food as the sun goes down and the air cools. The shadowy figure standing off the center of the photo is one of five wandering Chinese cerveza vendors who were working the square that evening. They are also our neighbors who live below us. We ate some pizza, someone played a guitar, dogs barked, and we went to bed. (We live in the building behind the construction site in the background. Although they are promising some swanky lofts in this new building none of us have ever seen anyone working on the project.)
Cavernícola (cave people)
I like this picture for its supernatural qualities. While on Mallorca we went out for the day with the entire Italian contingent, under the guidance of our new friend Susan, in search of a secret beach. Along the way we took a break deep in the center of the earth. We had to scramble through a small opening in the earth´s surface in order to access the cave which was completly dark at first until you penetrated deep enough to get into the main body of the cave. Once there the cave was lit by a hole in the surface into which Mallorcan shepherds had thrown the carcasses of their dead sheep, evidenced by the bones on the cave floor. At least I think they were sheep.
In this picture you can see Curtis, Julio and Amanda, gesturing wildly as she explains something. The supernatural aura above Curtis´s head is the light entering the cave and illuminating the smoke from Julio´s cigarette. This cave was apparently a source of fresh water to the early inhabitants of the island and my guess is that this entire chamber was full of water at one time but has now been dramatically depleted by modern wells and irrigation. Whatever the early people used it for it was a comfortable and cool place for us to take a break.
Susan, our guide, is American by birth but only spent about one month in the U.S. before her parents moved to the neighboring island of Ibiza. She told us that they were the first American´s there, the beginning of a swarming mass of artists and hippy drop-outs who came to the Baelaric Islands when the island real estate was up for grabs. She´s lived there ever since. With a keen interest in the archeology of the island, she took us to visit several ancient sites, stone circles and Taliotic structures, around the island. She also led us to some of the most amazing swimming of our lives.
In this picture you can see Curtis, Julio and Amanda, gesturing wildly as she explains something. The supernatural aura above Curtis´s head is the light entering the cave and illuminating the smoke from Julio´s cigarette. This cave was apparently a source of fresh water to the early inhabitants of the island and my guess is that this entire chamber was full of water at one time but has now been dramatically depleted by modern wells and irrigation. Whatever the early people used it for it was a comfortable and cool place for us to take a break.
Susan, our guide, is American by birth but only spent about one month in the U.S. before her parents moved to the neighboring island of Ibiza. She told us that they were the first American´s there, the beginning of a swarming mass of artists and hippy drop-outs who came to the Baelaric Islands when the island real estate was up for grabs. She´s lived there ever since. With a keen interest in the archeology of the island, she took us to visit several ancient sites, stone circles and Taliotic structures, around the island. She also led us to some of the most amazing swimming of our lives.
Marchando una de caracoles
We went back to one of our favorite places today, following a trip to the flea market, a stop in for some snails. This is the same place that serves the intestinos but the old geezer who runs the place said, "No", you must eat the specialty of the house, the caracoles. So we did. Or rather, I did. Amanda choked one down, and Curtis is always there to try something new but ultimately the dish was mine alone. They were delicious. The tiny bits of curled flesh are firmly retracted into their shells and need to be extracted with a toothpick. Once pierced they unfurl out of the shell with a gentle tug. The broth in which they had their last swim is exquisite, spicy, oily and sweet, perfect for to dip a chunck of bread. And dip I did, over and over again, between sips of vermouth and the occasional olive and pickled onion. (Click on the photo for more images)
Swim in the morning, swim at night
We went to the beach every day, once in the morning and again in the evening. (Almost everyday, on a few occasions we played in the swimming pool.) The water around Mallorca is amazing and transparent. The darker areas you see in the photo are a kind of seaweed, otherwise, you can see right to the bottom. The beach in this case is the slim stretch of sand at the upper right corner of the photo. There are caves to explore, colorful fish and water so salty you can´t help but float. Heavenly.
-Gregory
-Gregory
Mallorca
This has been our home for the past week. Federico´s place is in the background and we have been shacked up in the guest house. (You can see other pictures of the house by clicking on this photo and visiting our flickr site.) The house is about the same size as our apartment in Madrid but there are many more lizards feeding on the variety of tasty insects. The landscape around the house looks like more of the same, dry, rocky soil and scrubby, little plants. Olive trees everywhere and some other fruits. Lots of almonds are grown in Mallorca but not many people actually care for or harvest the fruits. It seems that Mallorca is primariliy a vactation destination for German and British citizens who own homes here but bother with the husbandry of the land. The grocery stores are full of German foods and German shoppers.
-Gregory
-Gregory
The Brothers Panza
For the past 10 days we have been the very fortunate guests of the Panza brothers, (from left to right) Giovanni, Julio and Federico. Amanda and I met Giovanni at Evergreen almost 20 years ago. After many years in the U.S. he has returned to his native Milan. His brothers however, have left the city and taken up the island life in Mallorca. Federico was kind enough to let us stay in his guest house (even though he already had five other guests from Italy in the main house), and we spent the week trying to make conversation in a combination of English, Spanish and Italian.
-Gregory
-Gregory
Corridas
We went to the bullfights on June 5th. It was some sort of opening day, six young toreros all trying to prove themselves. We've been asking questions ever since to try to understand what we were watching. Two concentric circles line the ring, the bull comes tearing out and several toreros taunt and torment it. Then the brass band toots and out come the picadors on horseback. The horses are blindfolded so they can´t see that a raging bull is charging them and they are clad in thick armored padding so they don´t feel the full impact of the bull smashing into them, which the bulls most certainly do. One picador got knocked off his horse, sending the picador into the dirt and the horse on a wild tear around the ring. By now the bull is bloodied and angry and the slow ritual of its death has begun. The toreros take turns in the lead roll as they take the center of the ring and slowly dance with the dying bull. The pink capes that have been used up to this point are put away and out comes the red cape. The dull sword is replaced with a sharp one. Finally, the death blow is dealt, everyone cheers, the bands toots and out come a team of horses to drag the bull away. Then it all starts over again. Somewhere benath our seats the bull is butched and somewhere else the beast is eaten. We had kabob.
-Gregory
-Gregory
Intestinos de baaa
We visited a busy little tapas bar this afternoon after a trip to the flea market. The house specialty was a stew of spicy snails that was bubbling in a large cauldron. They also had variety of fried goodies; chunks of cod, salty bits of fatty pork, battered shrimp and pig's ears.
We asked about this item in the photograph and when we were told what it was we stared blankly at the waiter. He then said, "Intestinos" while he pointed to his abdomen. "Intestinos de baaa" he repeated as he moved his hands together indicating something small. Intestinos de baaa? "Si" he said, "intestinos of the little sheep." Oh. We did not eat them.
-Gregory
We asked about this item in the photograph and when we were told what it was we stared blankly at the waiter. He then said, "Intestinos" while he pointed to his abdomen. "Intestinos de baaa" he repeated as he moved his hands together indicating something small. Intestinos de baaa? "Si" he said, "intestinos of the little sheep." Oh. We did not eat them.
-Gregory
Madrid Gay Pride 2009
What I really love about an event like Gay Pride is that the people take over the streets. There is no better metaphor for revolution than that. The Doobie Brothers knew it, Martha Reeves and the Vandellas knew it, when the people take to the streets the social order is over-turned. Here in Madrid, the people took over the streets and there was hardly any room for the parade, in fact, the parade had to force its way through the crowd. This is a picture of the Grand Via, the main artery through Madrid. There are roughly 3 million people in this city and 2 million of them, plus thousands of gay tourists from around the world, are right here on the 4th of July.
-Gregory
-Gregory
Home cooking
Clams cooked in white wine, garlic, and tomato with a cucumber, tomato and queso fresco salad is good.
-Gregory
-Gregory
El Rincón
This is how it goes: We wake up around 10:00, sometimes Amanda and I get up earlier and take a walk in the cool of the morning. The city is only waking up around 11:00 anyway. We eat a little breakfast and go out for a stroll. Today Amanda and Curtis went to the Plaza de Toros to buy tickets for Sunday´s round of bullfights, six matches starting at 8pm. Antonia and I went to the Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza to have a look at an impressive collection of paintings. We return to the Hideout around 3:00 for lunch. This leads into siesta. Sometimes we nap, but it can be difficult to wake up so today we played cards and drank a lot of cold water. (We are having a heat wave with temperatures in the 30´s.) Around 6:00 we head out to our favorite watering hole, El Rincón, down the street on Espiritu Santu. El Rincón, like most of the places in our neighborhood, has a bit of a hipster vibe but mellow. Some young parents seem to run the place and it was recommended to us by our landlady. El Rincón serves a variety of cool beverages including a home-made vermouth on tap and a "vino verano" (summer wine) a combination of half red wine and half lemonade, on ice, of course. The Madrileños have an infinite capacity to sit and chat while they drink very slowly. We are trying to learn to slow down as we sit and chill out but the locals always seem to drink slower than we do. Of course they have a secret weapon; we are the only people in the room not smoking cigarettes.
After a drink and a little reading as we sit, we walk to the shops for some dinner ingredients. After dinner we will probably fall asleep but we should stay up. Tonight is Friday and this weekend is Gay Pride and we just happen to be living in the heart of Madrid´s Castro district. Streets are cordoned off, multiple stages have been erected throughout the neighborhood and every window on the street is flying the rainbow flag. If we do go to bed it will likely be too loud to sleep anyway so we might as well stay up until 5am like everyone else.
-Gregory
After a drink and a little reading as we sit, we walk to the shops for some dinner ingredients. After dinner we will probably fall asleep but we should stay up. Tonight is Friday and this weekend is Gay Pride and we just happen to be living in the heart of Madrid´s Castro district. Streets are cordoned off, multiple stages have been erected throughout the neighborhood and every window on the street is flying the rainbow flag. If we do go to bed it will likely be too loud to sleep anyway so we might as well stay up until 5am like everyone else.
-Gregory
Döner Kebab
We love döner kebab! I don´t care what anyone says about acorn-fed Iberian ham, when we come upon the kebab shop in the neighborhood there´s no looking back. Thankfully, kebab shops are everywhere and they are one of the few places that Antonia can get a vegetarian meal. Amanda was expressing some concerns in the kebab shop in Toledo that we were not eating more traditional Spanish food but I have no shame. Mostly run by Turkish immigrants, kebab is no different than our west coast fascination with burritos. Comida rapido!
-Gregory
-Gregory
Mezquita de Cristo de la Luz
The people of Toledo are working to restore the city´s old mosque (but keeping the name that the was given to it after it was claimed by the Christians and turned into a church). The Christian frescoes have largely been destroyed and many of the walls are now decorated with Arabic graffiti.
-Gregory
-Gregory
Holy Toledo
We just got back from two days in Toledo, 1/2 an hour from here by high speed train. Toledo likes to advertize itself as the city of three faiths because of its Jewish, Moorish and Christian history. We went right to the torture museum to see how that story ended. Curtis and Antonia were engrossed and grossed out by the sheer variety of ways in which the Spanish Inquisition went about its business. Amidst the chastity belts, anal reamers, head screws and bone crushers was a delightful illustration of medieval water-boarding. "Look kids, this is how we do it back home!" Who says Americans don´t have any sense of history?
-Gregory
-Gregory
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