Nourriture Exquise

Welcome to Paris, France mesdames et messieurs!
It is here that I consumed some sensationally divine food. True, it may have been because we were for the 2 weeks previous consuming nothing but cured ham and bread rubbed with tomato; nevertheless, the night we arrived in The City of Lights, the food was exquisite. We began our taste bud journey with a few French Beers, (the names I could not pronounce, the flavors...de-lish). Moving on, Jarred and I split a bowl of French Onion Soup. Curious to the taste, since it originates from said country, I figured who could do it better?!?! NO ONE! Hands down, the best French Onion Soup! Absolutely decadent, rich, and savory. We perused the menu some more, and when Jarred came across the ole' standby of 'steak and fries', he was sold. I, a bit more adventurous, was looking for something more authentic; an item in between snails and cheese, with a raw texture, sure to not make me vomit. Our waiter suggested I have the 'steak tar-tar.' I've consumed raw beef before, and I must admit, I'm a fan. When they brought me a half pound of raw meet, however, my skepticism grew. Fortunately, 2 bites in, I was reassured by my taste buds and nearly licked the plate clean. Licked.It.Clean. (See below) We followed our prodigious dinner with chocolate mousse and coffee. This was the night I loosened my belt by not one notch, but 2.

Back to Spain for a minute, the plate of mini sausages was at a Tapas bar in Malaga. For every round of drinks you order, you get a free Tapa. This was the most scrumptious chorizo I have ever consumed (and I live in NM). Alive with flavor and succulent in spicy taste. The best part is that the photo below it is not an egg, but a bowl of oil and seasonings that the chorizo came in....Yup, we were even audacious enough to sop some up with bread and eat it. Heart attack city, and I do not mind.

A bit lower I thought it would be funny if Boyfriend would faux eat a hot dog picture. He thought it was less amusing than I did, thus making it hilarious that he still did me the honor of posing for the camera. (Thanks, Jarred).

Lastly, this is a picture in a market off of La Ramble, a famous promenade in Barcelona. I was intrigued by the colors, and all the funky looking fruit.

More Spain Pics

After several failed attempts to upload photos via blogspot, and 2 VERY SMALL melt downs, we are now viewing photos from, yet again, Barcelona. Kinda...well, the one in which Jarred and I are bundled up and look less than attractive, we are in Granada at The Alhambra. This place is in the running for one of the wonders of the world (or I have been telling people that anyway). And though it was amazing, and architecturally astonishing, we plowed through it in a matter of an hour and a half. (Sorry, there was wine to be had).

Oddly enough, NYE in Barcelona, they had the Barcelona World Race. Their convention center/ event space had a live telecast of the boats taking off, tapas and cava, and a plethora of pamphlets in Spanish about the days' events. Our events consisted of us taking pictures with the massive Sideshow Bob Blimp flying above. (Ps, that is the Mediterranean Sea behind The Man, and yes, we touched it...and it felt good, really good).

Night time picture is NYE. This is the last picture taken, (and possibly the only picture that will be shown of that night), before eyes became crossed, bottles of champagne were consumed, and public urination took place. I'm fairly certain that along with welcoming a new and potentially prosperous new year, some of our dignity was left in Barcelona on the last evening of 2010.

After some afternoon drinking, Jarred and I stumbled into a mall and found ourselves standing at the foot of an enormous Christmas Giant taking a dump. At first, we believed he only had his pants down (pantsonthegroundpantsonthegroundlookinglikeafoolwithyourpantsontheground), however, this colossal holiday beast was making poo in the Barcelona shopping center; thus, unquestionably, we felt compelled to have our photo taken with it.

Finally, on the evening we ended up wandering around with some random men and the spit-fire Italian girl at 4 am, I thought it was artsy-fartsy to capture out insane beverages on camera. Who knew Gin Gimlets and beer were so appealing?!?

NEXT...Food photos, unattractive mustaches, oh, and a little place I like to call Paris!

EXTRA EXTRA!!! Photos of European Excitement (BARCELONA)

They're here!!!
Photos galore! Barcelona will be our first stop on this exciting slide show adventure. The three daytime snap shots are of Gaudi's Sagrada Familia. This is the Cathedral, having been built for over 100 years, is yet to be completed. My 12 megapixil digital cam could truly never do it justice, but I sure as H-E- Double hockey sticks tried. The night time image is of Gaudi's Casa Batllo.

Ophiuchus, a Possible New Tattoo

Please note, that I will resume European stories shortly. France, filled with berets and Le Big Macs, rain and cheese, will be told through the eyes of yours truly.

Today however, I was compelled to search, via google, about the 13th Zodiac sign, Ophiuchus. A few days ago, I met my mother for an afternoon lunch (or Happy Hour as most people know it), and she calmly asked me, "are you still a Cancer?" At first, I thought she had asked if I still had Cancer, and was a bit thrown off. Post clarification of her true statement, I was more mortified than I was when I thought she had asked me if I had cancer. In the 2 weeks we were on Holiday in Spain, apparently The World decided for the last few hundred years (Pure approximation, calculated by nothing other than my guestimations) we had been close to a whole month off on the astrological calender. WTF, World?!?

Other than high school crushes and bored Saturdays, the horoscope was nothing I followed too closely. Horoscope descriptions, I have always found are fairly vague. Whether reading them in a magazine, newspaper, or on a website, one can usually relate to their specific sign, for example:

"Today is a special day, someone that you know, will do something. This may either elate you, or devastate you. If the wind blows, you will have thoughts, and if the day is a standstill, your thoughts will have you. Lucky Numbers, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9."

Upon reading this (or something closely related), many people (typically gullible), will relate this to their specific Zodiac. "My thoughts might have me, and I do indeed know someone...and I am positive they will do something." C'mon guys, we all know the Horoscope calender is a ploy for Cosmo (The magazine with dirty sex secrets for every occasion) to make money. Every January they come out with the Zodiac issue, where you can see which celebrity you are most compatible with based on how many rose icons you both have in your respective columns. Everyone wants to know how steamy their sex life might be, given the chance, with Jessica Alba or Johnny Depp. Unfortunately for most of us (or perhaps just me, based on Karma and my shitty, sarcastic attitude) I always end up with the sex life most compatible with Tom Hanks or Cloris Leachman.

I don't think I have ever opted out of being some one's friend because they were a Virgo. And I almost never discriminated against any sign for dating (sleeping with) purposes. The only thing that currently perplexes me (and fortunately for me, I was born a Cancer, and because of what my mother calls the stubbornness of my ass not wanting to leave the womb, I still am a Cancer) is the people who permanently inked themselves with their sign, only to have it now changed. It was like the cool people in NM, when the entire state had one area code (505, what what!) and they all tattooed it in Old English across their chest or on the back of their necks, just to have it change 2 years later. (575, boo). How you gunna switch that 0 to a 7, homes?!?

How inexplicable rude of The World to not take into consideration the bad decisions of freshman year and an amature tattoo artist. Finally coming to terms with the blue blob positioned above some 29 year olds hip, having spent years convincing friends and lovers alike it REALLY REALLY was the Sagittarius, she is now facing a devastation in telling her 3 year old it really really is Ophiuchus... the 13th Zodiac sign.

All in all, lesson of the day; someone will have a compatible and steamy sex life with Danny Glover, pending the decision of their Cosmo Magazine's Horoscope.

:)

Helloooo New Years in Barcelona

Friends...

So, 10 days late, but Happy New Year!!!

Hope the resolutions are holding up thus far, and the decisions from an evening 10 days ago are fading. As for NYE in Barcelona, there is much to be said. The hostel Jarred and I stayed in provided a huge dinner (Lot's of cured meats and cheese, yum) and some Sangria. We sat with 2 guys from Milan, or as we now know it as "The REAL Jersey Shore," a nerd alert kid from Colombia, (University, not country), a woman from Japan who became very giggly off of a small glass of sangria, and Steve, a fellow who visited from Sheffield, right outside of London. The eclectic mix of accents and language barriers truly prompted the liquor consumption.

Around 11:30, Jarred and I jumped ship and booked it down to the beach where massive fireworks and "The Countdown" took place. We ran into a very nice gypsy who sold us a bottle of Cava (my favorite) for 5 euros. For Jarred, the rest of the night is history. We waited for a big countdown, and caught it at 6. Having to count up from 1 to 6 in Spanish to know exactly what number everyone was saying put us counting down at 4, and cheering abundantly around what we thought was everyone cheering Happy New Years! Having had Cava AND grapes, a NYE tradition in Spain, there was every reason to cheer!

At this time, we made our way to a bar and celebrated with some lovely women from France. Jarred tried taking pictures of one of the women when she lost her phone, and said "her reaction is priceless to the missing phone." It was then that I realized he had the CRAZY in his eye. Clearly, I am far too familiar with this look, as I often see it staring back at me in the mirror or later in photos after debaucherous evenings, so I made the decision then and there that instead of potentially getting arrested in Spain for, It was better if he and I trotted on home. On the way, as a 5 year old child would, Jarred whined that he needed to use the bathroom. And since some of us know, he enjoys peeing on things, we ran to an off street so he could pee behind some trash cans. (Fabulous way to start the new year off, eh, Jarred).

We made it home in one piece, truly the beginning of our European adventures. The next morning, we flew, (Rested for me, hurting for him) to Malaga in southern Spain. We ended up in a nice hotel after wandering the streets for an hour with overloaded backpackers' backpacks, and looking very much foreign. Since we woke up in our hostel that morning with the stench of old feet and booze, a clean, private room, complete with fresh towels and a double bed, life seemed as if heaven opened it's doors!

Filling you in on Malaga to Granada, back to Malaga, and to Paris is preparing for another day- meaning everyone should prepare themselves for 87 pictures of Jarred and I in front of the Eiffel Tower. More to come...

Cured Meat and Cava

Hola a todos, y bienvenidos a mi Blog, via SPAIN!

Jarred and I made it hear alive...close to a week ago. Clearly. my New Year´s resolution of keeping up with my writing forum has already fallen to the wayside. Writing a few things every day would have been much more productive than cramming 3 pages into a blog of a 7 day experience; chalked full of New Year´s decisions, (good and bad), 5 € bottles of Champagne, a cabbie getting into a car accident in Granada, the ultimate search for Spain´s official dish of Pallea, tales of Ryanair and the European teeny-tiny Airbus industry, a hostel where (And I quote from a previous reviewer, and in what I imagine to be a Brittish accent), ´´The owners are directly from Woodstock, and walk around in YOUR bloody bathrobe.´´

What I will do is give you the bullet points and skip the boring details. And since the BF is now using the phone and not s¡itting next to me, I most definitely can regale you with his hammered stories...After all 4 beers.

We first arrived in BARCELONA on the 29th. Got to hostel, checked in, brushed up on my ever so clever Spanish speaking skills, and went for a walk. We ended up wandering around for about 12 minutes before I decided it was time for a cocktail. Sure, it may have only been 8:45 in the morning, but it´s EUROPE for crying out loud. And then we stopped for some cava, local sparkling wine. The wine plus the jet-lag, plus a non-sleeping flight, put us directly into sleep mode. Night was pretty uneventful, other than some more cava, the beginning of our cured meat eating frenzy, and some more wandering.

Day´s 2-4 were mostly filled with amazing sight seeing expeditions, Segrada de la Familia and other Gaudi works. (ALL AMAZING). In addition to the beautiful architecture, we had beautiful afternoons full of wine, beer, sangria, cava, and naps. Around day 3, Jarred made the distinct observation that locally, other than a few dishes specific to the region, cured meats, cheese, and olives were the cuisine of choice. Personally, I could live the rest of my life off of raw salted meat and bowel obstructing cheese, complete with marinated olives, apparently however, I´m easy. Being from Texas, and this truly being the first time he had traveled over seas, Jarred was more than ready for a medium grilled steak and a larger than life baked potato drowned in sour cream, ranch dressing, cheese and bacon bits.

Post afternoon siesta, (where our naps the first few days went from early afternoon to early evening) the 2 of us went for what we thought was going to be a ´´nice´´ dinner. We showed up to a little restaurant, and were told there were NO tables inside. No problem, being that we did not make reservations, and really, for me, dinner was about the cava. So the waitress let us sit outside where we had the wine and brought us the finest Tapas. Spectacularly fresh Ahi tuna, seared rare, and an egg carrpachio dish. Oh yes, we consumed the hell out of some raw egg. (No worms to be reported...yet). This night turned into a night to remember when we walked across the street after our 56€, 2 tapa dinner and got lit off beer and Gin Gimlets. We ended up and a quaint part of Barcelona that the both of us don´t believe really exists (None of the streets we remembered were even on a map) and we found ourselves walking around with a few guys and a very tini Italian girl with too much to drink, and attitude taller than she. She spoke English very well, and at 4 foot 8 inches tried to fight with a massive man who wouldn´t give he a cigarette. We absolutely loved her. At one point she demanded Jarred´s phone number and after he gave it to her, she tried calling. (Boy is she going to love looking at that cell phone bill in a month and realizing at 330 am she made a loooong distance call to New Mexico). We ended up lying our way out of going to an after hours bar by saying we had an early flight...and after getting into a cab and searching for food at 4 am, ate a raw hot dog.


Considering I´ve only tapped into the beginning of the trip at this point, I´ll post more later, allow everyone the time to consume and adjust once again to ´´The Blog.´´

Be on the look-out for New Year´s eve blog, as the stories only become...more colorful.

Salud!