Spaniards are… different. There are times when they drive us bat-shit crazy, and times when we find them charming.
The other day, Wendy is at the post office. She asks if she can use a credit card to mail something. The man behind the counter tells her no. The woman next to her, not involved at all, speaks up and says indignantly “This isn’t a department store. You have never been able to pay with a credit card. What makes you think you can pay with a credit card here?”
Wendy, having been forced to watch too much MMA with me immediately tackles her to the ground, achieves full mount and starts throwing down elbows. “I’m sorry, Did anyone ask you?
“Then why are you talking?”
“I don’t know! It’s my culture! “
/fantasy over. In reality Wendy stared at her blankly wondering why the hell she was commenting at all. This would never happen in the states.
Which brings us to today.
We are going to attempt “Tentacle ala Fanari” which is boiled, grilled, flambéed octopus limb that we discovered in Oia, Greece and ate so much of they allowed us to watch how to make it, in the kitchen, before we left.
We discover that you cannot buy raw octopus tentacle in Madrid. You must buy a whole octopus. At the first place we stop, the tentacles are eight feet long and the entire thing costs over a hundred dollars. We try another place and find one with four foot tentacles for only thirty dollars. We ask for advice from the woman behind the counter on how best to cook it.
The woman next to us says “You have to cook it for an hour, then let it sit in the water for an hour because it is very tough.”
Another woman chimes in with “Cook it with a potato, then you know when it’s done.”
First woman says “Oh yeah? MY husband owns a restaurant specializing in seafood and I know what I’m talking about.”
Second woman leaves. The first woman gives us some good instructions we plan on following. Random guy says “You have to pull the octopus out of the water three times, then dunk it back in, 1,2,3 to break down the fibers.”
Original woman agrees. Girl behind the counter agrees.
Random gay man tells me “your shirt really doesn’t go with those shorts little boy.”