Israel and his Peaches

I don’t expect Israel to notice me. But his head turns my way while I am still taking pictures, and he stops. Smiling all the way from across the empty road, he leans with nonchalance against his tractor and readjusts his straw hat, happy to strike a pose. Then he beckons – come, cross the … More Israel and his Peaches

Tortilla de Patatas

I want to do what Elena did in her pink frying pan. Tortilla de Patatas. I try to follow her hand-written recipe to the letter, but her careful Spanish script gives directions so succinct they seem too simple for something that tastes of sunshine and salt and melting-soft potatoes. It is a quintessentially Spanish tapa. I dig … More Tortilla de Patatas

Sugar Quotes

In Spain, taking a coffee can be an enlightening half-hour. Especially if you’re going through a rough patch. “Confía en el tiempo, que suele dar dulces salidas a muchas amargas dificultades.” (Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra) “Trust in time; it usually gives sweet endings to many bitter challenges” Usually. Thanks, Miguel. Words of wisdom from the great … More Sugar Quotes

Ana Luna

This is Ana Luna. Her character is as warm as the bread she bakes, and her heart is as full as the moon will be tonight (27th July). She sells her pan from behind a small counter at number 37, but photos of her bakery at the back are offered for free. Ana lives two doors … More Ana Luna

Barbadillo Boy

I am not indulging in a Dry January, but an attempt at Austerity January has almost amounted to the same thing. Feeding ourselves from the contents of the freezer and cupboards, with as few forays to the shops as possible, is fast depleting our stocks of everything. Including wine. Imagine the unbridled delight when my youngest son finally unpacked his … More Barbadillo Boy

Running Itchy Feet Away?

I’m at home, not away. It’s wet and windy. Sometimes black clouds of rain are whisked away to be replaced by more, permitting only the slimmest slivers of sunlight to bravely brighten the landscape for a brief moment. Icy shards of rain sting my face, and the wind gusts against me, slowing my stride. I’m running as if against the tide, … More Running Itchy Feet Away?