The weekend: Saturday

We had a lovely day on Saturday when we went to visit Matt´s dad and Carolina. I enjoy visits to Nava as Carolina always makes us lots of tasty food. This time it was avocado vinaigrette, followed by courgette flan, potato and beetroot mash and French beans (all of the main course came from their garden), and for desert a piece of cooling melon, which was perfect as it had turned into a very hot day from a cloudy start. We also had something very interesting to drink which was some posh lemonade by Minute Maid (part of the Coca-cola company, unfortunately), made with lemon juice and pulp, sugar - no nasty sweeteners - does everybody know where aspartame comes from? No? Well I´m going to go off on a tangent here, so sit down, make yourself comfortable and I´ll tell you story:

Once upon a time some very clever scientists in the United States were developing a pesticide to kill all those horrible bugs that live on our fresh fruit and vegetables. One day, one of the clever scientists was going about his work and accidentally tasted the pesticide. Well, wasn't he surprised to discover that is was very sweet and tasted just lovely. So, the clever scientist got together with all the other clever scientists and decided that it would be a very good idea if they could sell the pesticide, which they decided to call aspartame, to drinks and food companies as an artificial sweetener. However, first of all, they had to ask the government for permission to do this. Now, the nasty government said "hang on a minute, you want to let people eat and drink a pesticide? We don´t think that this is a very good idea." So the poor scientists carried on their work with pesticides and put the aspartame plan to the back of their minds, but did not forget it. They were waiting for the opportune moment. A few years later this moment came. The people had decided that they didn't want the nasty old government any more but that an old film star was a much better idea for a president. The clever scientists were very excited about this as they had some friends who were friends with the film star. So they went to the government with their brilliant aspartame plan and this time the government thought it was an excellent idea and said "Well done, you clever scientists you. Of course you can sell aspartame as a sweetener and make yourselves and our companies a disgusting amount of money. Did someone mention cancer? No, I didn't think so". And so the clever scientists were given permission to sell their wonderful product, nobody got fat or lost their teeth any more, and everyone made a fortune and lived happily ever after.


And that, dear reader is the story of how aspartame came to our dinner table.


Anyway, to get back to this delicious lemonade. What made it extra special - apart from the lack of aspartame - was a the tiniest touch of spearmint. It was scrummy, and next time I have a spare few minutes I shall try and make some myself, although getting hold of spearmint might be difficult. I wonder if the peppermint from our garden would work instead?


So, we had a very tasty lunch and then went to a ´Medieval Market´being held in a village down the road. It was the usual fare, although I would've liked to have had my camera with me as there were people spinning wool and making silk and others in traditional dress doing Asturian dancing. There were lots of stalls with hand-carved wood and a mirror took my fancy until I saw the price. So we satisfied ourselves with a loaf of bread and some rather fine home-made, wood-smoked cheese which we had for dinner along with other bits and bobs, including Matt's own red tomato and ginger chutney, when we finally got home. We downed it all with (what I later discovered was) almost a full bottle of Lidl´s finest fino (a bargain at €1.49).


Saturday's dinner

Coming soon - 'The weekend: Sunday - John Mayall and The Bluesbrakers'

A wonderful rainy weekend

I was very excited last Friday and my friends Dawn and Rich were coming to visit from Llanelli. The weather last week had been wonderfully sunny, but, true to form, as I stepped out of work and looked up on Friday evening I saw a sky full of grey clouds. Even so, I raced home eagerly to meet my friends and prepare the BBQ we had previously planned.

I love it when friends come to visit. The thing I dislike most about living out here is not being able to see them as often as I used too. It's also good to get a visit as I can order a big package from Amazon to be sent to them for free to bring out for me instead of having to pay extra tax (4% on books and 16% on CDs and DVDs), plus a whopping postage fee to get it sent here. (As my mum is coming by car this year she's getting an extra big package!) So thanks Dawn and Rich for bringing my package out for me.


In true British style we had our BBQ despite the clouds, and the drizzling rain which started later on. It was a good job the clouds came down as our neighbours would've thought us most peculiar if they'd seem us sitting outside eating barbecued goodies under the awning in the miserable rain.


I have been inspired by Tortoiseshell to post this photo. This is our current favourite beer, which we happily consumed on Friday night. I hadn't come across it in Spain before I lived here, but am making up for it now. At 6.5% it's stronger than the usual Spanish cerveza with a much fuller flavour. Matt calls it a 'sipping beer', but I find it much to tasty to just sip, however hard I try.




Despite the late night and the dreary weather, we pulled ourselves out of bed on Saturday at not-too-late an hour. Revitalised in true Cardiff style by a fried-egg-sandwich breakfast we went for a walk to our favourite spot above the house. It was quite atmospheric up there with the low cloud, although we could've done without the constant drizzle. Compare this to the last time we were up there.





We still enjoyed ourselves up there. There was lots to see despite the clouds blocking the mountain views (poor Rich, I don't think he saw a single mountain while he was here. Dawn, who has visited before, kept telling him how lovely the views that he was missing were) and because of the rain everything had a fresh, green look to it.














There were lots of cobwebs everywhere that stood out because of the rain. I think these were the strangest that we saw - they covered numerous bushes. I presume they're there all the time but we normally don't see them in dry weather.




My favourite activity of the weekend by far took place on Sunday. We had to get up early and had planned an early night, but after going out for a lovely meal at a local bar/restaurant we had gone back home for a few more beers and ended up talking until the early hours. So we were a big groggy on the Sunday and navigation to a place we'd not been to before in the non-stop rain didn't help. However, we were determined to carry on as planned. And I shall tell you all where we went in my next post which will appear as soon as I have time to write it during what's turning into a very busy week.

A lazy, rainy day

It's raining, still. It's not really stopped since Monday. This is why I'm still sat in my pyjamas and dressing gown at half three in the afternoon - I really don't want to venture outside. There was a moment when the sun briefly showed itself this morning, and I excitedly, but foolishly put the washing on. The cats all have cabin fever. They punctuate their long snoozes with mad bouts of chasing each other around the house and attacking whatever or whoever is looking vulnerable.

We knew when we came here that it rained, a lot. And I'd had practice at enduring the rain: I grew up in the NW of England, near Manchester and then spent ten years studying in Cardiff (I once read somewhere, and it came as no surprise, that these are the two wettest cities in the UK) so I should be used to putting up with downpours and dealing with dripping umbrellas and soggy jeans.

The good news is that it looks like we'll be getting some sun next week. In the meantime I'm staying dry inside while I can. I'm not a huge hot drinks fan, I usually prefer something refreshing (my current favourite is grape and pineapple juice mixed with sparkling water), however I do like these two rooibos herbal teas. The raspberry one smells and tastes scrumptious and the ginger, cinnamon and cardamom one is perfect for a cold wet day (although the brand name is somewhat unfortunate).

Overindulgence

Early yesterday evening we went halfway down the hill to an espicha in the village of Lantero. Espichas are mini-fiestas to celebrate the opening of a new barrel of cider. They take place in Asturias from mid-March to the end of April. Cider is a big deal here, it's the drink of choice for most Asturians. Many people make their own and apple orchards are a common sight. Cider pouring is an art. Because the cider is flat you're supposed to hold the glass in one hand down by your knees and then pour in an inch or so of cider from above head height to give it a bit of fizz. They even have organised competitions to see who can do it best and they're taken very seriously: winning one can add immensely to your social stature. There's a drinking etiquette which states that you're to knock back the cider in one go (so as not to let it get flat again) and all Asturians follow this to the letter. And, you share a glass and pass it round making it very easy to get through a bottle in this way. It's also used a lot in cooking here. We make a rather tasty butter bean and vegetable stew (with chorizo for non-veggies) It's cooked gently for about an hour in the cider, either in the oven or on the hob, and then we add lots of fresh parsley before serving. It's very good with mash or on it's own.

So, along we went yesterday with the idea of having a bottle or two, the odd tapa and then making our way back up the hill for a relaxing evening at home. All was going to plan, we'd quaffed one bottle and were well on our way to finishing the second. Tapas had been consumed, we were feeling rather mellow and were comtemplating ambling back home. Then, Matt received a text from some friends, Duncan and Susana, down in the town 'we're off for a drink if you want to join us'. "Why not?" said Matt "we hardly ever go out" and, having finished the last of the cider, we walked the rest of the way down the hill.

Now, I know from experiences as a teenager (yes, in plural - it took me a while to learn) that mixing beer and cider is not very clever, especially with just a pincho de tortilla - a small bread roll filled with a slice of Spanish omelette - in my belly to soak it all up. However, with a bottle of cider buzzing around inside me it didn't seem so important when we got to the bar. Besides, as it wasn't a sidreria - a bar specialising in cider, so more of the same was not an option, beer it was. And very happily I drunk it too. Also, I must point out here that Duncan (as you can probably tell from the name) is a Scot who, conforming to national stereotypes, does like his drink and sets a fast pace too. You can usually tell how much he's been drinking by how quickly he's talking - the more beer imbued, the faster the speech, and with a strong Glaswegian accent it's taken us some practice to understand what's he's saying once he's had a few. We eagerly, and noisily I imagine, talked the night away, in the process moving from the bar to Duncan And Susana's flat where they kindly made us pizza and salad. This was when Duncan had the idea to open a bottle of red wine. Details were hazy by this point so I'm not quite sure how much went down my throat - not as much as down Matt's it looks like (he's still suffering in bed at 3.15 pm) - and when I looked at my watch, well stone me, it'd suddenly reached 2 am.
Fortunately I wasn't so drunk that I forgot to sensibly put a glass of water by my bed once we'd taken a taxi home. I think it's more the mixture rather than quantities, and lack of food (very rare for me) that have caused this particular hangover. What's making it worse it that we have to go and find some firewood before the day is out. According to the weather forecast it's going to snow tomorrow, and Tuesday, and Wednesday. Yes. Snow. It's rather hard to believe at the moment, it's a gorgeous spring day with an incredibly
blue sky and not a cloud in sight. There's blossom on the trees and our jasmine is flowering. However, we have been caught out before - most notably in January 2005 when we were due to go and apply for our Spanish residency papers and it snowed heavily the night before. Matt, not wanting to miss the appointment that we'd waited two months for, and seeing the main road was clear, tried to drive us down the hill. Instead we ended up in the ditch having made it no further than the second corner, and had to wait a week for the snow to melt so the tow truck could come and lift the car out - so we've learnt not to be complacent.

Despite the snow causing us more work, effort and problems. It's always astoundingly beautiful here when it falls. The second appointment we made for the residency card application also fell on a day when it snowed - just typical. Not wishing to miss it for a second time, we got up early, put on our boots and gloves and battled through the snow down the hill to the train station. Nobody else was about at that hour and everything was covered with a pristine white blanket that glistened in the sun. It was like being a some kind of magical fairyland, our own personal Narnia, and I cursed myself for not having thought to take my camera out with me. The last time is snowed here was in early February. It made my simple trips to work and back much more difficult than usual. Although walking halfway up the hill from my abandoned car each day for a week made me much fitter, and I always arrived home very ready for my dinner. It was also lovely to see the lights of El Entrego beneath me, glinting in the snow as I walked. Even so, despite all this loveliness I find I'm wishing that they've got it all wrong and tomorrow will be just another spring day, although glancing out of the window I see the clouds arriving, here we go again.