Spain is magical.  I don’t know how else to say it.  As I sat in the plaza of the Catedral de Santa Maria del Mar, drinking wine until three AM with Edward, I realized that if I lived here I would never grow old.

Tapas with Edward and Xavi

Tomorrow I say goodbye to my mother, and Spain, and go farther away from home than ever before.  I am feeling sentimental, especially after falling, however briefly, back into the fairy tale that was my life in Spain five years ago.  I am ready, however, to expand my perspective of the world, and to do this with an open mind and an open heart.  I am willing to be vulnerable, because I know it only makes me stronger.  Vietnam, here I come.

Our hotel is on La Rambla, one of the main drags in the center of Barcelona.  About one block away is a world-famous marketplace, called El Mercat de la Boqueria.  It is a maze of vendors, selling everything you can imagine, from giant fish heads to hanging pig legs to seas of chocolate, spices, and nuts.

I know that my father would love it.

If you’ve been close with me in the last few months, you know that I’ve started to cultivate a knowledge of the culinary arts.  I was never much of a cook, and always watched in awe as Bianca or Jake or Faycal took over in a kitchen.  I always wished I possessed what I thought was innate, the ease with which some of my friends chop, and mix, and smell and smile … at just the right time.

I decided awhile back to learn how to cook, which is really a process that only takes a willingness to completely destroy dinner.  Thankfully, I have had a series of teachers who have taught me some of their brilliance, including Elba and Levent Ozakcay, to whom I owe the recipe below.  Elba would insist I tell readers that when cooking paella, you must put a penny on the stove for good luck.

Paella

This recipe includes both

and

Ingredients:

• 4+ cups chicken stock (with a bay leaf and a little rosemary)
• 1/2 cup dry white wine
• Juice of 1/2 lemon
• 1 bay leaf
• 1/2 bag frozen artichokes
• 1 tsp. course sea salt
• 1 tsp. saffron threads
• 5 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
• 6 chicken thighs
• 1/3 pork loin
• 1/2 pound pork sausages
• 7 oz. cleaned squid
• 1 cup olive oil
• 1 yellow onion, thinly sliced
• 1 red bell pepper, seeded and cut into one-inch strips
• 1 lb. ripe tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and finely chopped
• 2 1/2 cups risotto-type short-grain rice
• 1 cup shelled English peas, fresh or frozen
• 6 oz. Monk, Red Snapper, Cod, or Hake fish
• 24 large mussels
• 12 medium shrimp, peeled
• Fresh flat-leaf parsley for garnish
• 1 lemon for garnish

Directions:

1. In a saucepan over medium heat, bring the stock to a gentle simmer and maintain over low heat.  Add bay leaf and rosemary.

2. Cut chicken, pork loin, and sausages into 1 inch pieces.  Slice the squid into rings leaving the tentacles whole.

3. Place a 16 inch paella pan or a large, wide, heavy bottomed frying pan over high heat (or over a metal ring set on a rack over coals) and carefully pour in the olive oil.  When the olive oil is hot, add the chicken, pork, sausages, and squid and saute until golden, about ten minutes.  Using a slotted spoon, transfer the meat and squid to a plate and set aside.  Reserve the pan with the remaining oil.

4. Drain the artichokes and add to the paella pan.  Add the onion, bell pepper, and garlic and saute over medium heat until the onion is translucent and beginning to brown, about 3 minutes.  Return the meat and squid to the pan and add the tomatoes, stirring to evenly distribute tomatoes.  Add two ladleful of the stock and simmer for 1-2 minutes.

5. Stir a little of the stock with the saffron and mix well.  Pour into the saucepan of stock.  Add wine and juice of one lemon.

6. Add the rice to the paella pan, followed by the peas and all but 1/2 cup of the remaining stock.  Stir everything together thoroughly.   This the the last time you will stir the paella, so add a little salt if you see fit.

7. Cut the fish into 1-inch pieces.  Scrub the mussels with a stiff brush.  Debeard them by scraping off the tuft of fibers with a knife.  Remove them from their shells if desired.  Arrange the fish, mussels and shrimp on top of the rice mixture, discarding any mussels that do not close to the touch.  Return the paella to a simmer and cook until the meat and fish are cooked through and the rice is tender but not too soft, about 45 minutes.  If the mussels are in their shells, discard any that failed to open.  If the paella is not done yet and all the liquid is absorbed, add a little of the reserved stock as needed.

8. Turn off the heat, decorate with the lemon (half in the middle and the other half cut up into wedges spread evenly around the rest of the dish).  Cover the pan with a clean, dry kitchen towel.  Let stand for about 20 minutes to allow the flavors to mingle thoroughly and the rice to absorb any remaining juices.  Serve warm, not hot, garnished with the parsley.

Serves 8.

And for dessert?  Yes, please.

Barcelona is just as I remember: filled with passion and culture.  Today, while walking back to our hotel from Gaudi’s Park Guell, we happened upon a massive group of swing dancers in a church square.  

Spain has always felt so alive to me.  I have always felt so alive in Spain.  It is strange being here five years after studying abroad, falling in love, being completely immersed in a culture not my own, and yet feeling so right in myself.  Last night, we went to see a classical guitarist – Pedro Gonzalez – perform in the Basilica de Santa Maria del Pi.  Seeing such talent in such an old, somber setting was wonderful.  It felt extra Spanish because the performance began at 9:30 … excuse me, 21:30.

Edward is driving from Madrid tomorrow to spend an evening with us.  I’m excited to see him; we’ve both grown so, and he is such a kind person to drive so far just to spend a little time together!  I remember the first time that we came to Barcelona.  I was terribly fortunate to have a Spaniard show me his country.  And what do you know, la Sagrada Familia is still under construction today…

Mom and I have been getting on great.  I’m so lucky.

My next blog post will likely be a paella recipe.  Look out.

England was wonderful, and all looked a bit like a movie set, or a fairy tale.

I was fortunate to visit some wonderful friends at Oxford, all of whom are busy getting graduate degrees.  We ate inside a dining hall with long wooden tables and dark oil portraits on the walls.  I kept waiting for Hagrid to walk in.  Oxford is a beautifully strange place.  While rife with history, literature, and genuine prestige, I got the impression that the experience one has there, both inside the classroom and out, is somewhat insular.  Theoretical knowledge is grand, but when and where does the nitty-gritty happen?  We need more smart people to go out and get their hands dirty.  I know my friends absolutely will, and I’m proud of them.

The most wonderful experience I have had so far on this trip was seeing the Oxford Symphony perform in the Sheldonian Theatre on Oxford’s campus.  They played Mozart, Gershwin, and Strauss in an incredibly intimate setting.  I was definitely velklempt at the sheer beauty of it.

You know what else rocks?  Scones.  The English know how to do tea time right.

Taking a train-bus combination from Oxford to Brighton was remarkably picturesque.  It was snowing, and looked like a Grandma Moses painting.

I was surprised by how much I loved Brighton.  Our hotel had Freddie Mercury quotes all over the walls, reminding me how much I owe the British for their music.  The city itself was quaint, with street art covering the sides of plenty of buildings.  You could see how much of a wonderful escape Brighton must be in the summer time.  It was nice to hear sea-gulls again.

Gangsta chess, anyone?

Back in London, we definitely enjoyed ourselves at the theatre, seeing two plays and one musical (Billy Elliot, of course).  Once we were able to understand the accents, we got into the dry sense of humor that is quintessentially English.  Hilarious, really.  Most of the taxi drivers we had made us laugh hysterically, giving my Mom the idea that I should write a book about all of the conversations I’ve had with taxi drivers during my travels.  From the experiences I had with taxi drivers in Chile, to the conversations we’ve had on this trip, I think I already have a pretty intense endeavor ahead of me.  It could be called ¨The Gift of Cab: Insight from Taxi Drivers from Around the World,¨or maybe something less cheesy and long.

I think I have a problem.  When I am walking the streets of London, every older woman is Maggie Smith and every young boy lives like Oliver Twist.  Queen, Pink Floyd, and Robbie Williams have been on repeat in my head.  I feel like last year’s Olympics; I disparage this country with my trite English clichés.

Our first stop upon arrival was Westminster Abbey.  Poet’s Corner is a spot within the cathedral that houses the remains of many of the world’s most prolific writers, from Robert Browning, to Geoffrey Chaucer, to Jane Austen.  I found the grave of the author of my favorite literary quote: George Eliot (really, Mary Anne Evans).

The quote is from Middlemarch: “But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive: for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.”

London is cold and gray, but the people have been remarkably friendly.  Aziz, the “host” of a random church Mom and I stopped into, gave us a tour of the building, telling us about his life as a Londoner.  Taxi cab drivers have been warm and understanding; random English people on the street have stopped and offered to take our picture.  Mom and I are feeling right at home.  George was right about those unhistoric acts.

It’s never easy leaving paradise.

I am a myriad of emotions: excitement, anxiety, joy, nostalgia…

More than anything, I feel immense gratitude.  I have so much loving energy in my life, so many wonderfully supportive and generous friends, friends who have asked me to “scream my name in the place that steals your heart,” friends who have told me that they “will always be here to put life back together” with me if I get derailed, friends who have reminded me to breathe and accept the present moment as the greatest gift of life.

Yesterday, a friend sent me this quote.  Thank you, Whitman, for being a g.

England – London, Oxford, and Brighton: January 15th – January 24th

Barcelona: January 24th – January 30th

Vietnam: January 31st – February 10th

Laos: February 10th – February 19th

Thailand – Chiang Mai and Bangkok: February 19th – February 26th

Cambodia: February 26th – March 2nd

Thailand – Southern Beaches: March 2nd – March 9th

Malaysia: March 9th – March 14th

Singapore: March 14th – March 18th

Bali: March 18th – April 5th

Australia – Brisbane, Great Barrier Reef, Sydney, and Melbourne: April 5th – April 30th