Something strange has happened, the food tastes different to how it was abroad…the Mojo sauce from Spain doesn’t taste as good without the chef drizzling it over papas arrugada, the sun shining or a large (cheap) red. The mate tea was much more exciting and bitter in Argentina and I’m quiet sure the chocolate from California melted in my mouth.
There have been a variety of foods that I’ve brought home and introduced to my family, all of which have failed epically to excite their pallet. This time I turned to drink, a Brits best friend. On a visit to Switzerland I was introduced to Limon Cello, the only substance I’ve brought home, enjoyed and finished within a week. Although to my surprise this delightful drink is an Italian and comes in two consistencies: thick and creamy or light and clear. Drank in a short tumbler glass over ice before, during or after dinner (usually as an after dinner aperitif) this will give you a sure kick to any evening.
The creamy Limón cello is my more preferred choice; the clearer bottle somehow seems more potent and needs a mixer to calm down the sheer volume of alcohol.
Thank-you Switzerland for bringing this yummy delicacy to the Talbutt household!
Grab a bottle when you can guys!
If you were to define Britishness your first thoughts may well lead to associations of food: fish and chips; roast dinners; Yorkshire puddings; Wensleydale cheese, crackers – all washed down with a good brew. Who could blame you? Food is a great representative of how a country lives: of style (comfort) and of climate (tepid) … but what about the others, what do they think of us Brits?
If I was to move to Spain and desperately needed some British grub I need not look any further than the local supermarket. I walked past the pigs bare thighs, the dishes of paella, the tubs of olives and there, right in the corner, stood a section dedicated to ‘Inglaterra’ and if you had any questions about what the Spanish thought was truly British, here is a snapshot answer that is just brilliant and dare I say spot on:
For someone who has very little interest in football, being in Spain for the Euro final was something of a turnover; time to change my opinion of this sport, well, for one night at least.
To watch football in a British bar is like walking into an aggressive testosterone pit, not to my liking and certainly not welcoming. This is probably why I’ve leaned more towards rugby; a game that although more aggressive in action attracts a very different crowd, more gentlemen perhaps? Not necessarily, but the men are definitely of different calibre. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?
Spain is a country that adores football and this became quiet clear during the last week with a growing display of flags, practice run of fireworks and horn blowing. This was going to be an event, not just a match.
A group of us managed to get a table, positioned well for the game: directly in line with the TV and right behind a group of red and yellow fans, with a large flag ready to wave with the chance of scoring.
WHAT A GAME!
I’m not sure if Italy were playing badly, or whether Spain are actually…good? People at work have told me they were surprised, too! But wasn’t the second goal incredible? Erm, every goal was amazing – it was a goal! And each time we had red and yellow jumping up and down, hornet sounds blasting, beer glasses crashing and this great big “waheeeey!”
The atmosphere was a mix of camaraderie and pure wonderful hype. The first goal was a taster, the second was champion, the third confirmed a win and the fourth was just jaw dropping, really four goals? Well done Spain! “waheeeey!”
* Please note image is taken from Google
Barranco de Guayadeque completely blew me away, mostly because I never thought I´d make it there and now I´ve been twice, funny how things turn out.
As with most places in Gran Canaria, the very best places can only be reached by driving. A kind couple from work took me there, after asking constantly how to reach this remote cave dwelling.
The drive takes you through a beautiful and impressive mountainous landscape making you feel rather small in comparison. Half way up you will come across a (sort-of) village on the side of a dusty mountain where people still live in mini-houses and caves.
The gardens are really pretty with burst of colour and cactuses. I wish I ´d had the courage to ask one of the residents if I could look around their casa. Perhaps a bit too touristy though.
We were saying we wouldn’t want to be teenagers living there, its quiet remote and I´m baffled as to how their day-to-day lives run with being so far from anyone or anything except tourists and great big mountains – very much worth seeing.
Once you’ve reached the top you will be greeted by a unique restaurant: Cueva Tagoror.
If you go on a Sunday they cater more for specific Canaria food such as sancocho and papas arrugadas.
Sancocho *Please note image is taken from Google.
The food is very reasonably priced and you´re eating in a cave, an experience made comfortable with modern day lighting and fitted bars. There’s a gift shop and terrace there, too.
Terrace at the Caves
- Laura marking the event with a jelly fish sting and a big grin!
Waking up with every fibre of your body feeling dizzy is a sure sign that you’ve just experienced the festivities of San Juan (not pronounced San Jose…) in Las Palmas. An annual event where it is believed if you run into the sea at midnight you cleanse all your sins from the year before. You can also expect bonfires, fireworks and lots of alcohol on the beach of Las Canteras. I would recommend a trip to Gran Canaria just for this festival.
Often we’ve gone for evening walks along the beach and seen a few nutters swim in the dark, complete fools I thought, but last night was one of my favourite memories of being on the island. Holding hands with 3 other gems on the Leonardo Programme and legging it towards the waves as the midnight fireworks set off left, right and centre – such a buzz; until someone gets stung by a jellyfish. We hope this isn’t a sign for the next year!
every fibre of your body feeling dizzy is a sure sign that you’ve just experienced the festivities of San Juan
A night of epic proportions followed by clubbing at bar Mojo by the auditorium, how has it taken almost 3 months to find this cluster of decent bars? And then a gradual walk home, making one final stop along the beach for the sun to rise and Las Palmas to wake up.
High on San Juan! (and bubbles)