Homesick

Well, it happened, I got hit with a strong bout of homesickness. Everyone said it would happen. People back in the USA almost threatened it with stories of how I'd regret this choice. People that also made the move abroad promised it would happen with their own stories of struggle, but as we rounded a year in Spain and almost a year in Sitges, it hadn't happened yet. 

On Tuesday Denali and I managed to figure out taking two trains to get to Tarragona for the solar eclipse. Tarragona is a coastal city south of us with amazing Roman ruins and a strong Casteller history. It is one of the biggest tourist destinations on our coast so we were excited to finally be seeing it. We stayed at a simple place on the Rambla which gave us easy walking access to the medieval city center. After a stress induced nap (complex travel in another language is exhausting) we wandered up and down the cobblestone streets. The origami of the new facades built around ancient doorways was charming and beautiful. We quickly found a perfect spot at a cafe, under a huge tree, to people watch. The heat seemed to blaze at you from all directions even in the shade, it was hotter than in Sitges. Armed with our hand fans snapping quickly at our faces, we sat with a group of locals and dripped sweat in unison. The light slowly turned orange, but it would still be hours before the sun would set, we sipped our chilled glasses of wine, and took in the view. 

People watching is a favorite pastime of mine. You learn so much about a place and the feeling of it by watching who is there and how they behave. As we let the afternoon unfold in-front of us, it became very noticeable that there were a lot of very hot and unhappy American families out touring. Group after group stopped to argue in the charming plaza, shirts wet and heavy with sweat, children sticky with melted ice cream, teenagers sulking, everyone deeply exhausted. They clearly had hit ALL the sights and now couldn't even use the fan they'd just bought at one of the many shops selling a little piece of take-a-way-Spain to cool off. I get it, we have all been there where you felt like you needed to see all the stuff in order to feel you had seen the place, but man did it look miserable from where I was sitting. One thing I have learned living in Spain this year is that slowing down and enjoying is mandatory and not getting to "it", whatever "it" is, is not only OK, but necessary. Many of the families attempted a cold drink at the cafe, but they were loudly annoyed by the slow service (Spain waiters are on their own timetable and it must be respected), confused by the offerings on the menu not being listed as tapas, and flabbergasted that there were no tacos, which resulted in a quick rejection of the respite we were enjoying. The other category of person we saw in droves were cisgender straight white men from various countries. They seemed to have come to Tarragona for the eclipse party and completely different motives than simply viewing an astronomical moment. These guys prowled the streets in front of us and I made a mental note to be more aware when we walked to the hotel at night. These two types of people have been blissfully missing from Sitges. Our little gay corner of the world attracts people wanting to chill out. There is a heavy LGBTQ+ community, a focus on the arts, and blessed little else to do than stroll the beautiful streets hand in hand and fall in love again. I swear you can actively watch people fall in love with each other in Sitges. New couples, old married couples, gay, straight, any race or religion, something in the sea air weaves a spell. It is a magical bubble free from angry over tired tourists, scary straight men, and any form of hurry up vibe. There are plenty of straight men by-the-way, they just also seem to be the kind that are loving and kind and don't walk around with a threatening attitude. I think that is why Tarragona in August stood out so strongly to us. Obviously the city is so much more than this micro view of it I was having, but you see what I'm saying. What I did love were the locals who were absolutely amazing, friendly, even adoring people. The receptionist at the hotel desk took a personal interest in making sure we could easily experience whatever it was we had on our wish list with ease. Our cafe waitress patiently allowed us to stumble through ordering and asking questions in spanish, which takes a saint, and encouraged our efforts. A little later she gently informed me, when I asked for a fork, that "in Spain we do not eat mussels with a fork, we eat them with our hands" then kindly brought me a fork. This was a tip I had not been given yet and I love that kind of stuff! After that, when she passed by and saw the fork untouched, my hands fully immersed in white wine and lemon broth sucking away at the plump sea creatures, she beamed approvingly at me and rubbed my shoulder. As night tucked away the sun, we walked back to the hotel under the colorful lights and stumbled upon a group of Castellers! A rainbow of the classic button down tailored shirts that identify which colla you belong to wove together in a crowd. They come together to practice stunts, to support and help each other with the trickier feats they would perform seperately at the eclipse party in the port the next day. It was really a wonderful symbol of the city's core and that was even more beautiful than the Roman ruins... which are totally amazing and you have to go see. 

The following day we did just that, we went to see the famous Roman ruins... in the middle of the day, in August. Rookie move, seriously a bad idea, and I know better. Even in those conditions it was epic, truly impressive, and we managed to get back to the hotel before full sunstroke kicked in. Another nap on the rock hard beds and we were ready for the eclipse party! We headed to the port where promises of food trucks, bands playing, and some 18,000 anticipated excited eclipse watchers would be. What we found was something that resembled a badly organized (shout out to my New Mexican peeps here) Zazobra event. It didn't matter, we got our beers, skipped the mess at the food stands, and found a great spot to watch from with a direct view over the water to the setting sun. As the progression of the moon started across the sky, the small stage in-front of us filled with three men playing various bongo drums and one with a rain stick. I grew up in Taos, NM so I am very familiar with this being how some people would want to celebrate a cosmic event of this nature. What blew my mind was that they gave the woman that joined them a mic and the festival organizers allowed her to moan/ shriek as she did what I can only assume was a goddess moon dance. I am all for everyone doing what is right for them and celebrating this incredible happening in a meaningful way, but that is if it doesn't harm others or force their beliefs on others. Well I felt assaulted by this performance. I am pretty sure there are people that could have had the same concept and yet also sang or did vocal scales hitting real notes. Luckily that all stopped in time to watch the actual totality. The huge sea of people went silent, then as the moon hit the epicenter and full totality was in place, a collective gasp happened. It is hard to explain, but watching the halo of light spear out behind the moon as we were plummeted into absolute darkness and at the same time have 18,000 people all be struck by the surprising intensity and power of this moment then gasp in unison was incredible. Had someone given me a mic I might have started moan/ sheiking too, you never know. 

We returned to the hotel instead of staying at the party that seemed to be morphing into a rave and took the route that allowed us to see the gigantic Monument to Castellers statue. It was finally a perfect temperature out and the air seemed to be filled with happiness. All the prowling men stayed at the port and the Rambla was blissfully filled with happy Spanish children playing. We bought cotton candy from a street vendor and marvelled at what we'd just witnessed. It was pure joy marked by a little sadness that Jesse, the one that had been most excited about this, wasn't able to be with us. I went to bed that night a little melancholy. 

Waking in the morning I bounced out of bed with more excitement than a child on Christmas morning. I shook my daughter awake and squealed "let's go home!!!". I could hardly contain myself as we packed and headed to the train station. I hadn't realized it until we were actually headed back to Sitges, but I had just had my first bout of homesickness. I recognized that while Tarragona is beautiful and fun to visit, I desperately wanted to be back in my bubble, my perfect little piece of heaven. I missed home, Sitges.

So to answer the question heavy in the air, no I am still not homesick for the USA or even New Mexico. That answer seems to make some people sad. I think some people are sad because they genuinely miss us, but I think it also makes some people sad because they are jealous. A friend that I had this conversation with responded with "ahhh you bitch! I wanna move to Europe!" which felt like an honesty others have masked with comments like 'oh that's nice' when I report zero feelings of remorse or loss. Yes, this is incredibly hard, like really really hard, and no, Sitges and Spain are not perfect in all of the ways, but something has seeped in, deep under my skin, that makes me feel joy on a level I can not explain. In fact the longer I am here, the stranger it seems to think that I haven't always lived here.

I also know what it feels like to watch people you care about make big choices that force you to feel uncomfortable feelings, or to have introspective quandaries that are frustrating or depressing, and it isn't fun. On the other side of those moments, I have always been able to either confirm my choices, make changes, let go of unhealthy relationships or start new ventures that result in a better life for myself. They have served as a push that I didn't know I needed at the time. Hopefully those that read this and feel annoyance, will also allow for the moan/ shriek you hear me doing right now to dissipate and allow you to take a deep breath and experience your own totality. Maybe my move, my lack of homesickness, doesn't need to reflect anything back to you, maybe we just need to gasp at the beauty of it all... together.

Hablas Espanol Con Fluidez? (are you fluent in spanish?)

My Spanish class crew at our favorite meet up bar

Inevitably someone has to ruin all the fun chit chat of moving to Spain and ask 'Hablas espanol con fluidez ahora (do you speak Spanish fluently now)?' To which I always respond "Si, hablo espanol perfectamente (yes, I speak spanish perfectly)!" and then Google Translate and I laugh and laugh and laugh.

No, I don't speak Spanish fluently. 

I feel your judgement, I know you are thinking I should be immersing myself in the language, quietly asking why bother moving to another country if you aren't going to learn the language? What a gross waste of an opportunity! 

Well, as Carrie Fisher's character in the movie When Harry Met Sally said "You're right, you're right, I know you're right."

Can I just say, for the record, no one told me that Spain Spanish was really different than the South American Spanish I grew up learning. Phrases and words need to be unlearned, did you know that? I am repeatedly being scolded in class when my brain inserts some relic from many years past. This makes it incredibly difficult to attempt speaking out in the "wild", feeling like I am doing it wrong and...well, doing it wrong. Also, why bother when everyone speaks Catalan anyway?

OK so that is the cranky me talking. It is frustrating and exhausting, but I am trying. In July 2025 we landed in Spain, by September we had moved to Sitges, and in October we started Spanish classes twice a week. Denali doubled down by also taking two semesters of Spanish online through her University Film Certificate program and I attempted visa and healthcare paperwork in Spanish. This was an unorthodox method, but I do now know things like 'necesito una cita' or 'tengo una tarjeta sanitaria' and one all of you regular readers will appreciate, the word 'empadronamiento' also known as going to the PADRON. That word scares me so much that I can assure you we are still getting very important government mail at our old address because I have not worked up the courage to go back in, face La Senora, and change it. So what is the hold up with my language skills as we come up on a year of classes?

I think there are several things at play here... the first thing is that just being in a different country is emotionally exhausting. Everything is new and different and it takes a toll. Something as simple as coffee necessitates a deep dive. Turns out they roast coffee beans with sugar in Spain which actually makes the coffee taste more bitter. If you don't like your coffee to taste like vomiting bile, then you must get beans marked natural. The second thing is that we moved to Catalonia (an autonomous region in Spain) that speaks Catalan so just learning to hear the differences in the 2 languages was a workout. For months I thought I was seriously learning impaired because I couldn't understand anything an-y-thing locals were saying and I assumed they were speaking Spanish. Catalan is tricky and it is everywhere here, the grocery store I like the most has all of its signs in Catalan. The store's own brand of foods, in Catalan. The checker? You guessed it, speaking Catalan. Fun trivia 'tens carnet de soci' means 'do you have a member card' in Catalan. My personal favorite is websites, like your healthcare patient portal, kindly offers to translate the Catalan into Spanish for ease, no English option. Awesome, that will help lots! The third issue is that we are in a touristy seaside town so people working in restaurants speak some English and want to switch to that the second they catch wind of my jackassery. I have to work really hard to fight the instinct to sound intelligent and instead clunk my way through a sentence in Spanish.  

In truth I do see baby steps in the right direction. I was able to help a little old woman find something in a store the other day and that required a full conversation, and when I was watching a video without subtitles last night I managed to get most of the information I needed. Jesse says he can see improvement simply because of the kind of questions I ask him when I need his help with my Spanish homework, so maybe I am getting something here and there. I have had a couple people praise my accent which is cool since it has required a shift from the South American click I've known my entire life. It isn't easy, I didn't think it would be, but I am trying, even if it is only a little bit every day. 

But hey, at least I can order a glass of wine and that is all that is really important, isn't it?

Castellers... and Why Did Jesse Join a Gang?

Castells are what Castellers build. Castells are human towers that exhibit incredible teamwork, concentration, athleticism, and community. It is perfectly described as "a genuinely Catalan tradition which UNESCO declared Intangible Heritage of Humanity in 2010" on the Castell website (click here to read more), but it is impossible to describe what it feels like to see one in person. The crowd goes silent as the core group that form the base link arms. Quickly members of the Colla (gang) fall into place and like a mass of ants the climbers gingerly step onto shoulders from all sides of the circle. Layer upon choreographed layer they climb up, their arms clasped, their legs shaking in effort, and piercing stares fixed on one another. In the audience, we all hold our breath. Drums and flute like instruments called gralles start to play as the musicians see the base is secure and the top levels of the castell can be formed. Then a small extremely brave child, usually around 5 years old, shimmies up to the tippy top (sometimes 8 or more levels high), flings an arm into the air like a rodeo bronc rider and shimmies back down the other side. As the child descends, the layers of the castell descend as well. When deconstructed safely, the crowd goes wild! It is dangerous, acrobatic, and beautiful, and being a witness to it feels incredibly special.

So the million dollar question is how the hell did Jesse, a newly transplanted American in Spain, find himself a member of this unique Catalan community? As you can imagine, it is an interesting story. He had come across videos of this phenomenon, the castells, as he was researching the region we were moving to. He eagerly showed Denali and I videos of some of the biggest ever made, some of the harrowing falls, and various performances the Sitges group had done in town. He could not wait to see one performed in person, but after 6 months in Sitges he still had no idea how someone would be lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time to catch it. 

As you have read in previous posts, we live in the oldest part of old town. We happen to live next door to the historic Palau Rei Moro (palace of the moorish king) which we had not been able to look inside of because it was always locked or hosting a private event. One night, when we were coming home after an evening with friends on the beach, the big heavy wooden doors of the Palau stood wide open. We hesitantly entered the ancient space and much to our surprise we found the castellers practicing inside! Our excitement was obvious and caught the attention of the director who immediately welcomed us. Within minutes we were encircled by members who lovingly kissed our cheeks and explained what we were seeing as a castell formed in the courtyard. Before we knew it we were given t-shirts, agreeing to go on the bus with them to a performance the following day, and Jesse was being signed up as a member. 

Over the following months we became a part of this special family known as the Colla Jove de Castellers de Sitges. When Jesse had to return to New Mexico in the spring, Denali and I attended their events, were invited to dinners and lovingly hugged when they saw us on the street. We even introduced two local friends to the group which garnered us extra badass points with the colla. When Jesse returned he was met with such genuine joy and warmth that it was quite literally a tearfilled reunion.

The Casteller connection has enriched our lives in Sitges, but also other places. On my recent trip to Roussillon, France, (which is part of Catalonia and I will write about that soon), I impressed the wine community there with the surprising information that not only did I live in Catalonia, but my husband was also a Casteller, I went from just another journalist to a fast friend. I have to admit it was a pretty amazing feeling and it made me want to pimp my husband out for other groups to join.

The most amazing thing is that I didn't think we could love Sitges any more than we already did, but this family, this gang, has given us such a rich layer to our lives that we can now feel like we didn't just move here, but that we belong here and there are simply no words to describe what that is like.

Home is What You Make it: The House Update

Our home: La Torre, was built in 1901 by a wealthy fish merchant as multi floor flats to rent to fishermen in the the booming port village of Sitges, Spain. The original, protective town wall encircled and focused its power to the cliffs and Mediterranean Sea (less than a few hundred feet away) and still has remaining parts of it adjacent to us. At the Seaside is the King's Palace and the incredible Sant Bartomeu i Santa Tecla Cathedral. The palace, Palau Marciel, and neighboring historic buildings are now museums and form the Paseo that is the exquisite, must-see-most-Instagramable spots in Sitges. This preserved area, Casc Antic, is the oldest part of the Old Town, and the oldest part of that old part is Calle d'en Bosc that dates back to the early 1400s. THAT is where we live. 

In the 1970s La Torre was renovated to be a single family home and while it has had updates, the eccentric mix of styles over more than a century is obvious. The exterior blends perfectly with the stone walls of the rest of the ancient road, but as it climbs into the sky, you can see the formations shift to reflect the traditional windows and shadow balcony popular at the turn of the 20th century. Inside, the irregular shaped rooms and central column staircase reflect the past as well. The bottom floor is an entry and large bedroom with full ensuite, we are using it as an office currently. Up the tiled stairs to the 1st floor you find 2 very strangely shaped bedrooms and 2 seperate full bathrooms. This floor is probably the easiest to imagine as fishermen flats a very very long time ago. Up another flight and we have our living spaces: living room with fireplace, small balcony with French doors, and large kitchen. Modern amenities in the kitchen include a dishwasher, and semi up to date appliances. It is bright and sunny with an open concept rarely found in Spain and one of the reasons I simply had to have this rental. Up the stairs to the final floor you find a glorious rooftop terrace and a utility shed that houses a mini refrigerator and clothes washer. I mention the mini fridge specifically because this terrace is absolutely where you want to be at all times and you simply must have chilled white wine waiting for you. 

Things I absolutely LOVE about this place are many, and some often surprise me. Having grown up with my dad owning a construction business specializing in custom homes, I rely on a room being square (as in proper angles to ensure walls don't lean, not that the room has to be a square in shape). I grew up that if a room isn't "square", there is a major problem with the construction. Not one single room in this house is "square", or a shape you could name. Even the kitchen was pieced into a space in a way that doesn't quite make sense. It opens wide and funnels in toward the sink at the far end reminding me of the haul of a boat, a hint at the history of the house that I can't help but love. This narrowing also allows for a natural focal point being the incredible view out the big windows over the sink that gaze out at red tiled roofs on ancient buildings and just on the other side, the top of the cathedral with its peaceful bell that tolls on the hour. I love the antique chandelier and the exposed wood rafters in the living room. I love that flinging open the heavy windows and shutters gives you a fat stone perch to sit on and watch the festivities below when Sitges turns on its charm for one of its many, many fiestas. I love the cobblestone streets I walk to get home, I love the orangey glow of the city lights as you watch the sunset from the terrace. I love the giddy feeling everytime I open the heavy front door and step inside, and I am surprised to love hanging my laundry on the line for the hot breeze to dry. And... I admit I love that they retrofitted the house to have AC on each floor. 

So that was all the basic info about the house, but what have we done to make it ours? Well, it has come slowly. We are poorer now than we have been in a very long time, since we first opened the winery tasting room 23 years ago actually. Thankfully wine is cheap, food is fresh and plentiful and we don't need much to make Spain feel like heaven on earth. The other thing that has helped our adjustment is that the family that is renting La Torre to us, has done so with such love and trust. Upon meeting La Señora, she took a keen interest in how we reacted to each element in the house. She relished that we noticed small quirky things, asked about the history, and squealed with delight around every corner. Having passed the not so hidden foreigners moving to the area test, we were invited to rent long term from her. It felt as special then as we have learned it really is to have found this rare gem of a place. Making the place feel like us will take time, but it instantly felt like home because of this.

The entire house had been half decorated with antiques with modern inserts layered on top and due to the configuration of the house and stairs, those items are here to stay... forever. I hate the sofa, it has clearly been around for decades and likes to have the cushions slide forward when you sit on them. I fantasize about cutting it up into pieces with a chainsaw and throwing it out one of the big windows. I'm pretty sure La Señora would thank me for it. We did get a sofa cover, cranberry red velvet, that helped the look of it and have supplemental throw pillows, in varying shades of green velvet, but it is still not very comfortable. I took down all the paintings of country scenes that had some charm in making it feel like we lived in a castle, but simply were not our style and made it feel like we were only here for a short stay, not a long term lease. Our walls are still a bit stark, but slowly they are coming to be filled with black and white vintage photography and modern scenes of Sitges made by a local artist that we've fallen in love with. 

Bedrooms got mattress toppers and new sheets immediately; fun florals with a modern vibe. Bedside lamp shades have been swapped out and the same combo of art upstairs is hanging in our bedrooms. Little things like shelving for the bathroom, towels, and electronics aren't really exciting, but obviously necessary. And who am I kidding? I was tickled pink placing the wood stackable shelves in the bathroom! I had measured it to perfection so that when I put it together, it slide into the closet and was exactly what the space needed. Also the towels were a little exciting too... I had to order new towels because I listened to a boy about buying the first round, which sucked as much as I thought they might, and later had to order the ones I wanted in the first place. Of course this is after said boy complained about how much he hated the towels for over a month. The new towels are really great. We talk about them a lot LOL!

The biggest impact has been the rooftop terrace. Jesse has turned the place into an Eden with a lemon tree, cherry tree, lime tree and tons of planters filled with succulents and flowering bushes. My amazing mom made sure we had a table and chairs and a giant umbrella (thank you mom! Those housewarming gifts really made it a home!) and I put up a string of tea lights for the perfect evening vibe. Living in a city, much less Spain, having an outdoor space is pure gold and we are hyper aware of just how lucky we are. Also our new friends, a collection of locals and expats from various countries, tell us on repeat. 

Our home is a 2 minute walk down hill to San Sebastian Beach, or a 5 minute walk up over the crest of the cobblestone street lined cliff, next to the church, and down to the main line up of Sitges beaches. The incredible, and famous, Promenade stretches out from the base of the church staircase, along the beaches and in front of the many shops and cafes beckoning you to stroll there nearly daily. The charming alley down hill takes you to a restaurant/ bar with window service so people are always collected in the shade of the white buildings sipping fabulous local wines or a glass of beer. Just past that, across the 5 way intersection of twisting streets, is our favorite little market selling some of the most gorgeous fruit you've ever seen. Across from the little grocer is a carniceria showcasing Iberico in the windows, it is all so picture perfect it almost seems unreal. Jesse's casteller group practices right next door to us in the very special space of Palau Rei Moro, there is a wine shop next door the other direction, and past the coffee shop at the end of the road is the Town Hall meaning every single important event is only a few steps away, and yet the street is quiet and peaceful.

The most interesting updates to our home have happened to us internally, but are represented by small things around us. Our Carnival masks sit in the glass case of the antique armour, our bedazzled merman statue sits next to the TV delightfully reminding of how in Sitges every single day is a celebration, Film Festival fan items are scattered around the house, and a gigantic poster of the Roussillon wine region (a gift from my recent media trip to the area) hangs in our kitchen reminding us that Catalonia is so much more than an area in Spain. And the most important updates we have had are due to the unbelievable love we have been enfolded with by the locals. I could not have dreamt up this reality, this place, this home, this feeling, but it is remarkable. Often we simply look at each other and marvel that we live here, that we are so luck as to call this home.

The Choose Your Own Adventure Post

Corner of our house (with grape vine)

I didn't drink wine last night... and I had my first panic attack in Spain. A coincidence? Maybe, but I think we can all interpret the findings as conclusive; not drinking wine is bad for my health. 

We have had oppressive heat in Spain, but what they don't tell you is that the humidity is what really kills. Having been born and raised in arid New Mexico, USA, I have zero clue how humidity works. Evidently it makes 86 degrees, with 53% humidity (I know!!!) feel like 94 degrees. Layer on top of that that I have had covid with an added sinus infection and a cough that becomes one of those gasping for air types (and sometimes throwing up), I had a combination of factors making me feel seriously suffocated. 

I am struggling with a daily sense of claustrophobia that is blowing my mind a bit. Jesse just got here and already will have to return at the beginning of August. I feel a little cheated since we had thought he would have a few more weeks with us. Unfortunately grapes are coming in early and when grapes call, you answer.

So what else has been happening since March and my last post? So so much fun, party, celebration that I don't know where to begin!

So, you tell me, what do you want to hear about most?

Carnival (wild party and surprisingly sentimental)

London wine trip (once in a lifetime tasting)

Teaching at the Universite Haute Alsace (incredible 3 session conference lead by yours truly)

Castellers with Jesse (human towers and the gang Jesse joined)

Tapa a Tapa (the festival of food touring)

Wine trip to Rousillon, France (media trip where I am wined and dined)

Corpus Christi (the magical flower carpets of Sitges)

Pride week (and how it almost killed me)

Tour de France IN Sitges (a dream come true for fans)

Update on the house (changes to make us feel more at home)

Don't Be Afraid!

I have just finished reading a Wine Enthusiast Magazine article about how it is OK for you to ask the Somm for a different glass. This comes on the heels of teaching classes in Colmar (one of which was about marketing to the American wine consumer) to young Gen Zers and I now feel the need to share with all of you my thoughts on this subject.

One of the things that I talked to these fresh faces about was the generational marketing strategies we need to employ to sell wine. For those in the booze biz Gen Z has been a point of contention with worry about their lack of drinking and its effects on the industry, however when they DO drink we make fun of them. We were horrified when they put jalapenos in their glass of Sauv Blanc, and in the UK there are ancestors rolling over in their graves as kids put ice in their beers. These topics are not new, but I think have resurfaced at a crucial moment in time when we really need to make changes before all us Somms are out on the street. 

The WE article starts with the topic of the glass, well they actually start with a comment about ice in wine and how we should all get over it if someone does that. As a person that wants more people drinking wine, if putting ice in it makes you order a wine or buy a bottle instead of something else, then I will get the ice bucket for you! Also, I have done this myself on a hot day while sitting on the patio and fully loved the experience. Now as to the subject of the glass... this is something that is actually always evolving. This is why there is a new shape or size or this, that, or the other happening. Technically the way to enjoy sparkling wines is in a bigger bowl than the standard flute offers. This shift is due to a need to smell the wine itself more accurately and the larger glass allows for that. This is also a shift from the focus being on the crystal glass maker's ability to streamline your bubbles in a beautiful way to a focus on what art the winemaker created. The problem is that Champagne has done such an amazing job marketing themselves as the wine for special occasions and the glass it should be drank in that if it isn't Champagne and it isn't in a flute, you shouldn't even be celebrating. In fact the impression is that you are a dumbass and in the edited words of a famous Seinfeld episode "NO BUBBLES FOR YOU!". But here is the kicker, the person dead set on the flute is going to enjoy that wine so much more having it the way they want it! So why does it bother us so much to let them?

The Somm Secrets at the end of the WE article also reminded me of some of the student questions I was asked. These young wine curious people shyly asked if I had a favorite wine (y'all read that previous post of mine), if I ever added fruit or ice or soda to my wine, and of course, the question of the hour, what glass do you think wine should be drank out of.

As a quick note, my answer about fruit these days is to say I am now a resident of Spain and the Tinto de Verano is a staple at my house. This wine drink has lemon and lime wedges. I would say it is more of a wine cocktail because it also has a splash of Gasosa (sorta a soda and sorta just flavored mineral water). I've also been known to throw blueberries or raspberries in a glass of bubbly.

For the record, I am a passionate Riedel science fan and DO believe there is a perfect glass for each grape/ wine, but I also think that is far too complicated to carry out (or store) especially for the average wine enthusiast. I personally only have 2 kinds of wine glass in my cabinet, a small white wine glass (sometimes called a Riesling glass) and a large white wine glass. This is usually super surprising to people, but I think most red wine glasses are far to large. The small glass I use for white wines, bubbly and lighter bodied reds like Alsatian Pinot Noirs. The larger glass I use for full bodied whites and reds. I do also have a third glass... sorta. It is a tumbler or rocks glass that I use for Tintos and when I have a cheap wine not needing attention. 

I do have preferences even in my simple daily glasses that I find hard to compromise. I believe in a cut rim to avoid the speed bump dump of wine a rolled lip creates. That sloppy intro to your palate can ruin a nice wine. I do also prefer the hips in the glass shape, but I stop there with advice because I have drank my wine out of paper cups, often out of these recycled Sitges Film Fest plastic glasses as I walk around town or sit on the beach, and I have even enjoyed wine out of the cut apart plastic water bottle or soda can (be very careful not to get cut!). Other frowned upon things no one thinks Somms do, but we definitely do do, is shove the cork in (pen works the best) more times than I can count, had the wine get too warm, accidentally froze the wine, and we have ALL definitely drank it straight out of the bottle. 

My point is, I want you to enjoy the wine in your glass, no matter what the shape is or if it has ice in it. I want you to be having fun and making sure that WINE be a part of that fun. Most Somms these days feel the same way! So don't be afraid to ask for a different glass, ask for ice, ask for help selecting the wine you will like from their list and do it with confidence.

Next up... price and how to find that magic bottle for a good price on a restaurant menu or in a wine shop.

8 Month Mark

Today is a really really good day. I have finally been able to register for my health card. The process has been legit insane with crazy amounts of jumping through hoops and, shudder with me everyone, many trips to the Padron. It has been 8 months since I left the USA and landed in Spain. A surprisingly long and simultaneously short time. Stretching out the time between medications so that I can get by just enough, family bringing meds when they come to visit, and the hardships of flare ups definitely made it feel long. However, being that we only recently settled into a long term rental, it feels like we have been on the go and unable to let it all sink in, making it go by in a flash. But now with some of the biggest accomplishments under my belt, I got to thinking, we have been acclimating to our new lives. We have new normals that we take in stride, and as I sit on my rooftop terrace today feeling like I might finally be able to answer your repeated question "what is it like to live in Spain?!?". 

Well, it is the little things that make it different. For example coffee in Spain is incredibly bitter, and they like it that way. A special roasting method called terrefacto is responsible and believe me, it takes some getting used to. It also takes learning the hard way how to hunt down the right beans in order to make coffee you like at home. This is one of the many reasons why you will see me order a glass of wine at the cafe instead of a coffee.

Speaking of wine, yes the wine is cheap and good! It is something I already knew from countless previous trips over to Europe, but something I really appreciate now being on a tight budget living here. But it isn't just the bottles in the store that are only a couple euro, it is also the by-the-glass setup they have in Spain that means house wine is always very good, local and cheap. This means you CAN afford to go to the cafe for a glass of wine and soak in the Mediterranean sun on a regular basis.

Another thing we should be adopting in the USA other than great house wines on every menu, is siesta. I really didn't think this one was going to be my cup of tea, but holy hell how have I lived most of my adult life without it? In the USA if you are taking a nap you must be ill or pregnant. In Spain, you MUST take a rest midday. Sleep? Maybe. Rest? Definitely. And why not?!? Everything in Spain closes from 2pm-5pm so what else are you going to do? If it is summer, then it is the peak of the heat and you need to get out of the sun. If it is winter then you need to curl up under a cozy blanket to warm up. And according to Spain, it is important for mental health and quality of life. Hell yes people!

Cold?!? Spain is cold you are asking? That is one that people are super surprised at, yes it gets cold in Spain! I selected a seaside town because of the moderate temps, not too hot in summer and not too cold in winter. What that translates to in Spain is your flip-flops won't melt if you leave them outside in August (like they did for a friend living is southern Spain) and it is not insane trying to heat your home in the winter (like my friend living in Madrid). What that looks like is winter coats in January... possibly over your bikini. I kid you not, we had a week of glorious beach days stuck in the middle of a cold snap that dusted nearby Barcelona with snow. 

What's the food like? Spain has a relationship with tomatoes that I didn't know was possible. First let me say I have been shocked at the intense flavor of fruit in Spain since we landed. Being a supertaster I talk about smells and flavors more than the average person, maybe obnoxiously so, but I really am intrigued and in Spain, it takes me several minutes to stop talking about the flavor rush of eating an apple. So now let's take the wildly wonderful flavor intensity of fruit in Spain and look through that lens at tomatoes. Every store has a large tomato section. The little corner market next to us has 15 different varieties always in stock, they are probably out of bread, but they'd be stoned to death if they didn't have all of the varieties of tomato at your disposal. There are the kind you slice and put on a sandwich or the like, the kind that you cook with to make a sauce, the kind you use in a salad, the kind you use to make gazpacho, and the kind that you use to scrape across bread for pan con tomate (the staple dish of Spain all regions seem to agree on). And that is just the ones I have learned about. I seriously wonder if I will ever truly learn the complexities of how, when, and why you use all the other of types of tomatoes.

Food is definitely a trip here. I had the idea that it was tapas only... everywhere. And when you aren't eating tapas, you must be eating paella. But tapas are actually not king here and paella is actually kinda hard to get. Tapas are more of a thing in the north, they do it elsewhere because you, the tourist, is in love with it. They range quite a bit, but are generally seafood oriented if you are anywhere near the water... and you are almost always near water in Spain. Tapas bar hoping is a thing, but takes a second to master. Generally you do this standing up, being assertive and yelling at a bartender you serves the tapas (laid out under glass on the bar) and your drink. Ask questions or pause and you can forget it, you should probably leave and go to the next place. In our quaint little town there is a Tapas a Tapas 10 day festival that is a bit different. This festival is meant to let you try the different restaurants' signature dish with a glass of wine for only a few euro. This is to entice you to come back for a full meal sometime. You get to sit down and the whole thing is a bit more relaxed. Tapas are very region oriented, what you will be eating and how it is done so my best advice is to stand aside and watch the locals for a few moments before you dive in. As for paella... geez, I had no idea it was such a 'thing'. Turns out it was originally invented as the Sunday meal men made for their wives and is a bit of what-is-there-left-in-the-fridge-from-the-week kind of dish. It is also very regional as to what is in it, seafood if on the coast, meat if inland. But here is the real deal, it is made to order so they insist that at least two people at your table order it, it takes forever to cook (so settle in), and you totally look like a tourist if you have it for dinner. A warning to anyone brave enough to engage a local about paella in Spain; Valencia is home of the dish and they don't think anyone else makes it correctly or should even be allowed to try. 

Speaking of trying and weather or not you should, is the language of the region. If you are like me, then you thought in Spain they speak spanish done and done. One, if you learned South American Spanish you don't really know how to speak Spain Spanish. Two, there are 17 different autonomous regions in Spain with cultural identities, traditions, and you got it, languages. I am in Catalonia taking Spanish classes, but realized early on that I need to learn Catalan, a very difficult language. It is hard to not feel overwhelmed and depressed with this information especially when you find yourself in a shop and the owner only speaks Catalan so you both try to communicate in Spanish that neither of you know very well.

A fun surprise has been attaching to a futbol team already. Just the other day we got preferred seating at the Sports Bar because the waitress recognized us from previous game days. That was super cool being escored out of the tourist zone to the locals area. We really get into the game too with the other Sitgetans, singing the chant (oh yes, you guessed it, in catalan) with each goal, and of course wearing a Barca jersey even though I don't like Barcelona the city. Clarification on this one: Barcelona is a province in the Catalonian region and the capital is Barcelona city. This means my little town is located in the Barcelona province in the Catalonian region of Spain and it happens to be near Barcelona city. Therefore our region's futbol team is Barca. 

Another thing I am loving is what they call 'sobremesa' and it is the time after the meal dedicated to sipping another glass of wine and talking to the people at the table. It is actually considered very rude to order the check having just finishing eating. They think you are unhappy with the meal. Seriously, they will ask what is wrong and not just in the passing way a waitress in the states might say "everything alright?", but with true concern, why are you leaving so quickly? Did we do something wrong? Even if you licked that plate clean, they are worried that they did something that would make you want the check immediately. You need, to at the very least let them clear the dishes, sit back and digest for a while. No they are not in a rush to reseat your table, this is YOUR table and it is mandatory to take time to enjoy the experience you just had. And they expect you to. Don't want dessert, a coffee, or another glass of wine? Then why are you even alive? Just go jump off a cliff! I have quickly grown to love this concept deeply.

So what IS it like living in Spain... is it exotic and exciting? No, not really. I do all the same things I used to do. Today is like every other day living in Spain or the USA. I do the normal things like make coffee, do some laundry, go get groceries, and get a few hours of work in. The difference is that I drink my coffee looking out over cobblestone streets and ancient red titled roofs. I hang the laundry to dry on the rooftop terrace, walk a block or two to the market to buy three different types of tomatoes for tonight's dinner, and work while church bells ring and the town wakes up in the evening light after siesta. It is pretty surreal and special while being 100% just your average day.

Green with envy? Don't worry, just in case you thought my horror stories of moving would be stopping, you sick little puppies enjoying my pain, I found out today that currently our residence cards and Padron registration have the same address on them... allowing me to be able to get the all important health care registration...BUT it is not our new long term rental address. What does that mean? Oh yes, you got it, I will need to jump through all the same hoops again to update the ID card and city registration... with La Reina at the Padron.