Where we are today….

www.psrt.com/labruyere

Day 1: “No Pasa Nada”

La Carniceria

Abril from Argentina

La Familia

A Spanish Welcome

A very patient Mercedes picks us up from the airport, never letting on that she has been waiting for all of the four hours that our plane was delayed in New York. We follow her to a tiny car and pack ourselves inside, moving lethargically to her chorus: “No pasa nada”. The Barcelona-native, after losing a parking pass, hitting a curb and trying to run down a barricade gives us a brief tour of Las Ramblas.
In Tordera we are fed immediately. Maria, our Spanish Grandmother, prattling off in Catalonian as we sit at her kitchen table, coaxes our appetites with her hospitality. Her sentiment needs no translation- grandmothering is a universal language. We help ourselves to her fried chicken, scalloped potatoes, and zucchini soup, taking seconds and thirds from a communal plate in the tradition of the Spanish kitchen.
The secrets of Tordera are hidden behind the metal screens that secure the peach-colored buildings with burnt-orange roofs and don’t open until after la siesta. From the local carniceria we buy jamon serano, mortadella with green olives, chorizo, and fuet (a regional delicacy in the style of salami). In la panaderia Maria finds a French round loaf, and with these we head to Maria-Gracia’s house for tapas, a picinic-style meal designed to beat the heat of the kitchen during hot Spanish summers. The bread is sliced, tomato-rubbed and topped with meat and cheese varieties, and our hosts serve us Bordeaux, a special treat from their recent trip to our own La Bruyere. This is followed by a dessert wine, sauternes, to complement a selection of small Tordera pastries. The night’s entertainment is found in countless misinterpretations as we struggle to find words of a common language for our dinner conversation.

Late that night, we leave Mariagracia’s to lay horizontal for the first time since departure, anticipating the wine-tasting at the end of our drive through the narrow rues of Cerbère and Banyules.

Day Zero: A Tentative Itinerary

Three Weeks Ago:
It’s ten minutes before noon in Eugene, Oregon. I am leaving my apartment for another class in intensive French grammar, holding a fist full of change for another pesto bagel from the campus cafe, when my phone rings.

“So…I have some interesting news…” It’s my Aunt Debbie, and she is being elusive and her tone is playful.  I have no idea where this is going.

“Good interesting or bad interesting?” I ask.
“Oh…I think you’ll enjoy this…”

Ten minutes later I hang up the phone. Bearing with me the news that I will be accompaning Debbie to France and Spain for two weeks, I find suddenly that the nuances of my summer class and campus dining have become infinately more bearable. Quaint, even.

In the spare moments of our busy days since this afternoon we have been planning the trip.   As of yet, we will stay in Tordera,  in the home of Maria Castilla Altea, a surrogate grandmother to Debbie’s kids. Then we will seek out the eccentricities of Cerbere, a small train town on the Catalonian Coast.   From there we head to La Bruyere in Bordeaux where we will be experimenting with market-fresh foods and wine pairings.   We hope to make it to San Sebastian and Bilboa before heading back to Barcelona for our final days.  Now, as we sit in the JFK airport next to dozens of other Barcenola-bound travelers, we await a feast for our mouths and our hearts.