Life: Idiotropic

When I first arrived here, I had this schedule set in my head.  A day for writing, a day for housework and errands, a day to travel locally and photograph things, etc.  I was sure in all this that I would also come to Valencia's Mercado Central once a week as well because not only can you find just about everything that you need, but you find all sorts of things that you don't need, but stir the senses regardless.  Sadly, in the six months I've lived here, I can count these visits on one hand.  

But today was my excuse to go.  A new family in the neighborhood = a good reason to play tour guide.  Kids on the bus and my new Aussie friend, Michelle, and I were on the train and on our way.  This is Michelle's first time in Europe, so it's fun to see her reactions and remember my own as she pointed to many of the beautiful buildings asking what they were.  Some I knew.  Others I didn't.  Old beautiful buildings are a dime a dozen around here.  We walked through the three main plazas where most everything happens, the Plaza del Ayuntamiento, Plaza de la Reina, and the Plaza de la Virgen and I explained as we walked the little things I knew both culturally and historically about each one.  We stopped at Starbucks for coffee surprised to hear the cheerful American accent behind the counter.  "Did you live in the states?" I asked, surprised to hear such flawless English.  "I'm American," she replied all smiles.  Crazily enough, I don't know how to order at Starbucks anymore.  I wanted Cafe con Leche which isn't on the menu.  Smaller and stronger than a latte, I was grateful for this American girl who could help this fellow American get a Spanish coffee in the Seattle chain.

And, soon enough we made it to our goal, the amazing Mercado Central where, with the luxury of time, we zig-zagged aisle to aisle through the entire thing to miss nothing.  Here, I discovered three venders sell the Dutch pesto cheese that I love, a new one that sells pickled ginger and powdered wasabi, several that sell the stinkiest Camenbert I've ever had the displeasure to breath in, and a dried shark that is ready to eat - just drizzle with oil and heat.  Michelle was shocked at the number of creatures sold with their heads still on - pigs, ducks, chickens, rabbits, these toothy dried sharks.  In Australia, like the US,  food is sold nice and neatly in packages in a grocery store completely disassociated from any the reality of its origins.  Here it's all a bit more "real."  Here your dinner may come with a smile still attached.

For lunch we tried a place near the church that I've walked by many times and hoped to try.  At Sagardi, they sell pinchos or montaditos, a tapa consisting of a small slice of baguette with some sort of topping.  I've had the misfortune to try many disgusting pinchos, but this place looked better and the look was not deceiving.  Yum.   You enter and are seated.  The waitress will bring an empty plate and take your drink order.  The rest is up to you.  The dark wood bar is lined with plates each heaped with different montaditos.  Ham, cheeses, sauces, fish, croquettes.  You help yourself.  Waiters come to each of the tables as new pinchos emerge fresh and warm from the kitchen offering them up before leaving them at the bar.   When you're through, you pay according to how many toothpicks are left on your plate.  Quick, easy, delicious.  And... the best cappuccino I've had in Spain.