We got up so late today that they were putting away the breakfast food at the café we stopped at. And they were preparing the tapas for the glass display cases that line the bar between you and the barista. We watched as they put out a display tray of Pimientos del Padrón and made a note to come back here later.
First thing we heard on the street today was an American woman telling her male friend, “Don’t you go thinking you know more Spanish than me.” Lots of Germans walking around Sevilla’s Centro district too, French and Italian, all butchering Spanish no worse than I would if I opened my mouth. I used to think art was the universal language but really good art doesn’t always translate. Food is probably the universal language.
Our guide book said, “Nothing much happens in La Macarena district,” “It is the least altered by tourist hype,” and “Entertainment value is substantially compromised by authenticity,” so that became our day’s destination. We spent a good bit of time ducking the sun and at one point felt overcome by it so we dashed to a fruit stand. We bought some small exotic peaches and and asked the owner if he could recommend a good restaurant. He pointed down the street and said, “Todo recto. Al fin. A la derecha. El Rinconcillo. Es muy bueno.”
This place was established in 1625. It’s older than Guinness. We ordered the house salad for two (asparagus, roasted red peppers, salchitas, grilled shrimp, bonito, calamari stuffed with ?) and we split a spinach and chick pea dish that must have been influenced by our proximity to Morocco. Both were out of this world.
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We are salivating. Exotic Peaches from a street vendor, then a salad of bonito, grilled shrimp, calamari, asparagus, roasted red peppers, and then moroccan spinach/pea………… something. Are you telling the truth? Mary Kaye wants to know what you are wearing? clam diggers? espadrilles? straw hat, sunglasses and visors? Is this a dream?
I’m not liking America very much right now.