Missing Hot Stuff

I've been talking to some people who lived in Spain long enough to get a taste for its food and the whole culture of culinary life in the country. They have now left Spain and it is revealing to discover what they most miss when it comes to eating in Spain.

Harry came into my life when he rented part of my home near Granada in Spain. He arrived in a big red van and I helped him move in.
I was struck by the favourite food he had brought from Amsterdam. And the hundreds of packets of dutch coffee.
I am also a big fan of coffee from the Netherlands. So I was pleased to be on the receiving end of some Douwe Egberts.

Harry stayed for a year and headed back home when his supply of coffee had run out. In that time I took him out to some of the better bars serving free tapas in the city and got him to try some new foods in the hope that he would be smitten with some elements of Spanish food.
And he was.

Now back home in Holland I asked Harry what he missed.

“Oh, so very much” he replies. “I miss the whole experience of eating out in Spain. It was such fun. So relaxing and I miss those long lunches we enjoyed. Eating out in Spain is splendid because time is taken. There is no such thing as a quick lunch or dinner there, and I do miss that.

“As for the food, well, number one that I miss is those lovely little green peppers. You know, the spicy ones. Pimientos de Padron. The ones you and I used to play Russian roulette with to see who bit into the most fiery ones. I thought my head was going to explode the first time I tasted them. I had never tasted anything that hot, and I haven’t since.
“I didn’t think I would get hooked on Spanish peppers, but I did. I miss them all, especially those hot ones.”

What else, I wondered, did Harry wish he could eat right now?
“Well that wonderful dish of Habas con Jamon that you make, Vernon. The broad beans so fresh and the ham goes well with them. When I ate out in Spain that meal would sometimes be too salty, but you knew what to do to make sure the big pan you made did not make me so thirsty. I loved how peppery you made them and I miss dipping in the juices with fresh bread.

“And then there are the sardines the delivery man brought to your front door. I cannot tell you how much I miss sardines with a little salt and a slice of lemon. They were so fresh and tasty.

But what, I wondered, did Holland do better than Spain – other than, in his opinion, coffee?
Harry remarks: “Well I loved shopping at the markets in Spain for fresh vegetables. Such big cauliflower and cabbages and very earthy carrots and beetroot. But I could never get them served to me in restaurants in southern Spain. I liked the meat I was served there, but I did miss being able to eat vegetables in restaurants. Here, in Amsterdam, there is plenty of choice of veggies on the menus.”

So it is clear that one man’s meat can be the poison of another. Some like Spanish coffee, some don’t. Some like it hot, others miss the more subtle tastes of Spain.

And that is what I shall be dealing with next time.