The Market Where Albert Tried to Buy One Tomato
We went to the market this morning because Albert decided he’s now an authority on Catalan food. This happened after last night’s tomato-bread dinner, which … Read more
We went to the market this morning because Albert decided he’s now an authority on Catalan food. This happened after last night’s tomato-bread dinner, which … Read more
Just bread, tomatoes, olive oil, maybe a few anchovies if Albert didn’t protest. One of those dinners that technically counts as cooking even though it … Read more
The morning after Christmas in our house smells like coffee and yesterday. The fridge is full of containers that look faintly official. Labels in JC’s … Read more
Christmas cooking in Catalonia does not whisper. It arrives with a stockpot the size of a small child, the smell of simmering meat drifting through … Read more
We went to the Saturday market in Vic because JC said it would be good for Albert. He said it like homework. Fresh air, colours, … Read more
We went to the market early. List on the back of Albert’s phonics sheet. Fish stalls busy, good prices. The fishmonger offered a mixed pack … Read more
I promised myself I wouldn’t make big claims about tiny wins. Then last night happened, and here I am, writing a love letter to a … Read more
It started because I left the room. That’s always when things shift. Not during the actual mess, but in the lull before it—when you think, … Read more
Right, let’s talk about Spanish food. Or, more accurately, let’s talk about how I’ve completely failed at Spanish food and why that’s probably the best … Read more
Okay, so. Parenting in Spain? A shitshow. That’s it. That’s the whole post. I thought I had it all figured out. Like, “Yeah, I’ll move … Read more