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El pasado 20 de abril la prestigiosa revista Restaurant hizo pública la lista de los mejores restaurantes del año, la S.Pellegrino World’s 50 Best Restaurants. Cuatro cocineros españoles y sus restaurantes ocuparon lugares de privilegio.

Ferran Adrià, con el Bulli (Roses, Girona), ocupó el primer lugar por quinta vez.  Andoni Luis Aduriz  quedó cuarto con el restaurante Maguritz (Errentería, Guipuzcoa) . Los hermanos Roca y su Celler de Can Roca (Girona) consiguieron escalar hasta el quinto puesto. Y el veterano y archiconocido cocinero vasco Juan Mari Arzak obtuvo el octavo lugar.

Mientras ellos celebraban sus merecidos premios, yo me disponía a comer. Nada especial, algo popular y tradicional, un cocido.  Este plato es habitual en toda la geografía española, pero los ingredientes varían ligeramente dependiendo del lugar. ¿Los queréis probar? Seguidme. Empezaremos el recorrido por el centro de España. En Madrid tenemos el cocido Madrileño con Morcillo.  En León disfrutaremos  del cocido Maragato, realizado con siete tipos de carne diferentes. En Cantabria podremos degustar un fantástico cocido Montañés con alubias blancas. En el Atlántico, en Galicia, nos recibirán con La Laconada de grelos. Y si os acercáis por mi casa, Barcelona, os sorprenderé con una típica Escudella Catalana  y su peculiar “pelota”, una súper albóndiga de carne picada con pimienta, huevo y pan rallado.

¿Y sabéis qué? yo también recibí un premio por mi labor en la cocina, un beso de mi esposa.
Que aproveche.

First off, allow me to apologize for not posting on Friday. It appears that my “post date” function was set for January, and not December. 

That said, let’s move on to the topic of Spanish Holiday desserts – a topic near and dear to my heart. Prior to moving to Spain, Holiday desserts comprised solely of pumpkin pie and Christmas cookies. Both of these desserts are still some of my favorites, but over the years, I’ve added some new delicious delectables to my favorite’s list. The first being Marzipan.

Although the true etymology of the word is unclear, it It is suspected that Marchpane was taken by the Germans for the English bread “March bread”. Another theory held by the, the Real Academia Española suggests that the Spanish word mazapán was derived from the Hispanic Arabic pičmáṭ, which is derived from the Greek παξαμάδιον. Can’t pronounce that one can you? Don’t worry, my Greek isn’t up to speed either, so you may want to stick with the first theory.

What is marzipan? It’s a confection consisting primarily of sugar and almond meal, while cheaper versions contain rice flour or potato starch. If you buy a box from any Spanish supermarket, and compare it with those from a pastry shop, the difference is astounding. The cheaper version tends to have a courser texture, typically leaving your mouth dry and powdery. On the finish, it has a plastic taste to me that makes me think like chewing on cardboard layered in powdered sugar. Yeah, clearly not a delicious taste. While read Marzipan is like heaven in the mouth. Soft, slightly chewy with a long sumptous and almost zesty flavor, it can be compared to a bite of heaven.

Mazapan , or marzipan, can come in a variety of different shapes and colors, is occasionally covered with sugar or pine nuts, and can even contain a rich, unctuous filling such as a blend of egg yolk (yema) and sugar.

Interestingly, many desserts from Spain are made with egg yolks, thanks to wine. Albeit a practice still used on occasion today, in the olden days, monks utilized egg whites to clarify sediment from wine. But with hundreds of yolks left over, it was only logical that marzipan, among the thousands of other Iberian desserts made with egg yolk, came into existence.

Which city is internationally renowned for their marzipan? Toledo, located just south of Madrid, is required to use sweet almonds that contain at least 50% fat. Plus, the ratio between almond to sugar must be a least 1:1, where the almonds represent at least half of the total weight of the final product.

Historically however, despite the fact that both Venice and the Orient debate with Toledo’s claims to having innovated marzipan, evidence suggests that the Moors (Northern Africans) carried a sweet almond and honey concoction called, mautha-ban or mahsaban, to the peninsula when they invaded in the 8th century.

If you travel to Toledo, a trip I highly recommend, make sure to peruse the dozens of pastry shop windows filled with extravegant marzipan desserts such as 3 foot high meticulously designed cathedrals, life sized animals and intricate doll houses. The artisan work is phenomenal and absolutley worthy of a beautiful gothic day trip from Madrid.

Saludos,

Gabriella

Gabriella Opaz is co-founder of Catavino.net – a website dedicated to Spanish and Portuguese wine and can be found on Twitter here.

I love Salmorejo! Winter or summer, this is one of the most lovely dishes to enjoy with a glass of Sherry. Filling yet refreshing, I couldn’t suggest a more ideal soup when you simply want a five minute recipe in a pinch.

Ingredients

40 oz of tomatoes (skinned and cored)
1 garlic clove (personally, I like two) pealed and chopped
A small piece of day old bread (approx. 4 in.)
2 tbs Vinegar (Pedro Ximenez is ideal if you can find it)
1/8 litre of Extra virgin olive oil
Salt to taste

Garnish (optional)

1 Boiled egg
Cubed serrano ham
Cubed tomatoes
Fresh cilantro

Preparation

Immerse the bread in a bowl of water. I can’t emphasis enough how important this step is as I have failed to do this on many occasion, which has led to a slightly lumpy soup thick soup. Trust me, not the ideal. While this is soaking, blanch the tomatoes. Put under cold water briefly, then peel, core and cube them.

When the bread is finished, but it into a bowl and squeeze out the extra water. You can also wrap the bread in a cheese cloth and twist, which will accomplish the same task.

In the bread bowl, add tomatoes, salt, garlic, and then mix. You can use a serious high powered mixer, or simply a hand mixer, but either way, your end goal is to create a creamy thick mixter sans lumps. If the texture is too dense, add a touch of water, mix, check and repeat if necessary.

Once your ideal texture is reached, check for salt using the same steps, followed by vinegar. This is a slow process that requires a bit of patience, but if you don’t stop to check the progress of your Salmorejo, you may be adding too much acidity, salt, garlic etc. Therefore, best to stop, taste, repeat before adding more of any ingredient. Finally add the oil.

Presentation

Although you could technically have salmorejo alone, I find it lacks the pizazz that a little garnish can bring. I like to serve the salmorejo in small bowls surrounded with even smaller serving dishes filled with chopped bowled egg, tomatoes, jamon and cilantro (this is not typical garnish, but it is delicious). This way, your guests can pick and choose at their leisure what flavors best work for them. If the soup is thick enough, you can try various combinations of the garnish as you slowly make your way down to the bottom of the bowl.

Drink

As Salmorejo is from Andalusia, I would suggest Sherry! As there is a wide variety of sherry ranging from dry to sweet, light to heavy in body and from dark and spicy to light and refreshing, I think it’s impossible not to find one that suits you. For more information on Sherry wines, go here.

Cheers,

Gabriella

Gabriella Opaz is co-founder of Catavino.net – a website dedicated to Spanish and Portuguese wine

When I first moved to Spain four years ago, I was as unfamiliar with Spanish music as I was of their culture of food, wine, architecture and art. My ignorance extended so far that I imagined Spain as a slightly more conservative and reserved version of South America. And although I could argue that this is partially correct, I failed to understand the complexities behind this incredibly layered and beautiful culture.

Part of what makes Spain so unique and special, is it’s approach to community and socialization. The street is your home. Filled with outdoor cafes, promenades, street performers and impromptu musical performances, life begins and ends under the bare star studded sky.

For me, it was truly a culture shock to join my four roommates and their dozen friends for a night of tapas, outdoor concerts or simply loitering in a plaza. While I was used to intimate conversations with close friends in wine bar, or enjoying a long lingering dinner in their backyard, Spain shook up my sense of word “gathering” to include a half dozen people hanging out in the street who most likely have known each other for the majority of their natural born lives. I was merely an outsider looking in, but warmly accepted for both my cultural similarities and differences.

However, although I was stunned and overwhelmed with the outdoor herd mentality, as days ebbed into months, my need for personal space and long, quiet conversations relaxed, and suddenly, I craved the impromptu songs, the free form dance styles and the “whatever” approach to time and obligations.

And in this cultural transformation, I was embraced by a sound I have forever weaved into my initial understanding of Spain, flamenco chill. Chambao, a flamenco-electronic band often covered by small groups of people in any given plaza in Madrid. Originally from Malaga, Andalucia, Spain, Chambao is renown for a ‘flamenco chill’ sound that interweaves flamenco sounds and palos (forms) with electronic music. La Mari del Mar is the lead vocalist, songwriter and producer of this ever evolving band; who if seen in concert, is said to be a whirlwind of vibrant energy and joy. Put another way, imagine a style of music that not only forces a smile on your face with its upbeat and rhythmic tones, but also creates a sense of freedom and personal expression, enticing your hips to move, your hands to clap and your body to sway and turn. The etymology of the name, Chambao, is taken from an improvised form of beach tent that is constructed so as to shelter you from nature’s harsh elements.

If you’ve never heard the music of Chambao, I highly suggest you take a moment and go to iTunes, Jango or Pandora to have a listen. It’s worth your time!

Vocabulary

el vestido de flamenco – flamenco dress
el bailarín – dancer
el cantante/la contante – singer
oír – to hear
escuchar – to listen
bailar – to dance
tocar – to play
aplaudir – to applause/clap
la canción – song
el tambor – drum
la guitarra – guitar
el golpeador – flamenco guitar

NOTE: A great way to learn Spanish is by listening to music. If you find a song of Chambao you like in Spanish, find the Spanish lyrics here and the English lyrics here. When you have a good understanding of the text, put the English lyrics away and sing along with the song over and over again with the Spanish lyrics in hand. What this does is not only stimulate both auditory and visual senses, but it helps you to gain a better understanding of the vocabulary, pronunciation and word order.

What is your favorite Spanish music to practice your language skills?

Saludos,

Gabriella

Gabriella Opaz is co-founder of Catavino.net – a website dedicated to Spanish and Portuguese wine

Teach children long enough and you quickly realize how age is no indication of maturity. As much as I would love to believe that I have 33 years of wisdom and intelligence to fall back upon, the reality is, is that I’m as awkward and uncoordinated with my thoughts and emotions as any toddler is taking their first steps.

Just need to get my right foot forward. Damn my leg is heavy! Who made my leg so chubby and heavy? Stupid chubby leg! How am I supposed to move this fat stub and balance on this tiny foot at the same time? Breath…Okay..okay..almost there..Yeah! Whoo hoo. One step! Sweet!…Wait..What?!! Now you want me to move the left! No way lady! I’m sitting here and taking a breather. I’m saying “nap time” with the dog and my pacifier is what I’m saying or you’re going see some serious tears.

We cry, scream, hit and occasionally bite when we don’t get our way. We get angry, and take our frustrations out on the one’s we love, and more often, the one’s we don’t love. Rather than smiling and saying thank you to the store attendant, we nod our heads in a sign of acknowledgment but not necessarily with kindness or respect. We rarely move out of our seat for someone who needs it more, claiming that our day was equally as difficult as theirs, nor do we help each other even when help is completely warranted. We do this to protect ourselves from interacting or getting to close.

I say this because I’ve noticed that I’m becoming a little numb to granny needing a seat on the train, little Alvaro wanting to teach me about the cats who live under the bushes lining his apartment building, or the store attendant who asks me for millionth time, “De donde eres?”

Stuck in our 2 bedroom apartment, rarely communicating in Spanish with the outside world, I fear at times that I’ll never master this language, and remain a toddler, communicating with short phrases while repeating the same verb tenses because they are the only ones I know. My fear builds up so profoundly that at times, even when I have the opportunity to write in Spanish, I remain paralyzed for fear that I’ll make an error. This is no way to learn a language, and I feel that maybe Eleena’s suggestions in taking 40 minutes a day to practice a group of vocabulary or a verb tense may not be such a bad idea.

Maybe maturity for me will come in recognizing where to divide my time between work, my relationships with others and my relationship with myself. To understand when to focus on my goals, such as improving my Spanish, and focusing on my future and relationship goals. Maybe my thirties will bring clarity as to how I can continually invite change without feeling barraged with instability. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to take my first fluid steps towards appreciating the daily achievements, rather than remaining focused on lifelong goals.

Here’s to balance!

Gabriella

Gabriella Opaz is co-founder of Catavino.net – a website dedicated to Spanish and Portuguese wine

A few years ago, while still fresh off the airplane from the States, I learned rather quickly that one cannot always translate words directly from one language to another.

Still in my nubile state, dizzy from culture shock and in a state of confusion, I began teaching English classes to business executives as a way to make ends meet. For months, this went splendidly as my Spanish was nonexistent, whereby, forcing my students to converse in English. But like any native tongue, words seem to slip out unconsciously when you feel comfortable or at ease.

“Hola guapa”, my handsome forty something student said while greeting me at the door of his office.

“Wait a second, doesn’t guapa mean beautiful? Why didn’t he greet me in English? Is he hitting on me?!!”, I thought to myself while following behind his perfectly pressed suit into the conference room.

Feeling a little uncomfortable, as if I cheated on my husband, I approached my roommate later that evening and asked, “So, do I need to tell my husband that my really attractive student finds me beautiful, or is he humoring me?” Flickr photo by Foraggio Fotographic

As expected, she broke up in tears of laughter and quickly educated me that guapa is our equivalent of “honey” or “sweetie”. “Gabriella, you’ll quickly notice that even the most homely among us will be called ‘guapa‘ from both close friends and just plain friendly people.”

She was right. Once my ear was attuned to this perfect five letter word, I began to hear it everywhere. Over time, I slowly picked out different variations on the same theme, “Hola guapi!” or “Guapaton, como estas?” Some terms were exclusively used for specific friends, while others seemed to be an overall catch term for “honey”.

But there’s more:

mi rey (literally “king”, but in this case, “honey, sweetheart, darling”)

mi reina (literally “queen”, but in this case, “honey, sweetheart, darling”)

(mi) corazón (literally “heart”, but in this case, “love”)

(mi) muñeco (doll, both literally and figuratively)

(mi) muñeca (doll, both literally and figuratively)

cariño (honey, sweetheart, darling)

cielo (literally “heaven”, but in this case, “angel”)

chiquita (little one)

What’s interesting to note is that I now use many of these terms not only with friends and friendly people on the street, but also in business. I can’t tell you how many times I have had a new client thank me for something by saying, “Eres un cielo”, or on the second meeting with a client, being called “cariño“. And although I wouldn’t start practicing this on future business clients yourself, I would suggest listening in to conversations and taking note of what you hear.

Personally, I adore these terms, as I am notorious for calling everyone “honey”, “sweetie” and “love”. I appreciate hearing the butcher call me reina and my fruit vendor call me chiquita. It makes me feel cared for and a part of the community.

So remember, the next time you’re called guapo or guapa, don’t assume the hot Argentinean across from you wants your number, as they just might need you to pass an extra napkin

Saludos,

Gabriella Opaz

Gabriella Opaz is co-founder of Catavino.net – a website dedicated to Spanish and Portuguese wine

Last week, while touring Valencian wineries for a few days, we stumbled across an adorable little cafe with food to make your knees buckle. Called the Ginger Loft Cafe, this wee little established, looking much like something you’d find in Oregon or Washington, is run by two expats, Mathew and Santiago. Mathew, originally from Scotland, is a master pastry chef and fabulous cook, who has spent several years traveling around East Asia, incorporating different cuisines along his travels. Santiago, or Santi, has also spent a considerable amount of time in East Asia, as a result of his father’s Japanese lineage. Together, they have created an lovely and quaint two story cafe that prides itself on its unique international cuisines and authentic mixed drinks with a special Ginger Loft touch. So rather than a traditional Caipirinha, you’ll find a “Asian Ginger-Pear Caipiroska” made with absolute pear, sake, fresh lime, ginger syrup and pear juice. Trust me, it’s delicious!

Having spent the better part of the evening with both Matthew and Santiago, chatting about their blossoming two month old business, what was fascinating to discover was how difficult it has been for them to both integrate themselves into the local community, as well as obtain services in a timely manner. Granted, coming from the bustling city of Tokyo, I can only imagine the culture shock they must have gone through when dealing with issues pertaining to both customer service and the notion of time. While Tokyo runs on clockwork, Spain chugs along on a more relaxed pace, ensuring that time is always made for a good conversation over a cup of coffee. Not surprisingly, this transition can be frustrating if you’re not willing to shift your work habits and mindset.

“We’ve had customers come back to our cafe telling us that we’re different from local establishments because we pay attention to their needs,” voiced Santi with an air of surprise that this wouldn’t be common knowledge. But the fact is, is that it isn’t common knowledge, and good customer service is still considered a rarity among most expats. However, as both tourism and immigration rise throughout Spain, it is becoming more common to be greeted with a smile and served with caring attention. And because both Santi and Matthew want to support the neighborhood and family run establishments, their philosophy is to only speak well of their neighbors, while aiming to set a new standard in customer service. So far, I commend them on a job well done. From a soft and savory lentil hummus to an Asian vegetable miso-honey chicken salad, the Ginger Loft will entice you with exotic flavors and new culinary combinations that will excite your palate, service that will warm your heart, and prices that will soften your pocketbook.

Spain is an incredible country to find great food, hidden little treasures and lovely people. And despite the fact that as expat business owners, we gripe about cultural norms, it part and parcel of living in a different culture. There are always adjustments to be made when entering a new land, but without these differences, the world would be rather homogeneous and boring place.

Saludos,

Gabriella Opaz

Gabriella Opaz is co-founder of Catavino.net – a website dedicated to Spanish and Portuguese wine

When you think of Spain, it’s difficult to imagine that you may need to defend yourself against aggressive old biddies coming the opposite direction, but YOU DO! These little grandmas have had years of practice taking up every inch of sidewalk space, leaving you with nothing. Insanely fast traffic coming at you at lightening speed? “Es tu problema, little whipper-snapper”, she says while hip checking you into oncoming traffic. Twenty foot deep ditch recently created by construction workers sipping on a beer? That’s right kids, grandma and her gray haired posse aren’t moving for you! BAHM, underhanded umbrella swipe to the knee, which sends you spiraling into the dark pit of no despair.

Grandma’s own the sidewalk in Spain!

Well, let’s be fair, it’s not just Grandma, it’s the Spanish mentality that moving out of the way for someone else is just not in the cards. Basically, you’re looking at a game of chicken where no one moves until very last minute. And if its anyone over the age of 60, you can kiss you’re chance of getting a piece of the concrete goodbye.

But there is hope! (Flickr photo by ferminet)

Top 3 Self-Defensive Techniques for Sidewalks in Spain

These moves should be taught under the trained guidance of Expats who have lived here for many a year. These are dangerous moves that should not be done without years of practice and a considerable amount of gullibility.

The Amazon Strike: Here, I ask you to take a deep breathe and imagine that you are a 50 foot tall Amazon. When you walk, the waters part, and people cringe in fear of your immense size. Keep this image crystal clear in your mind, because you’ll need it when Grandma starts her counter attack. Now, as you face grandma and her Ben-gay smelling crew, don’t let them unnerve you. Just barrel down the center of the street unwavering from your path, because eventually, she’ll move. Now, you may fear that she’ll be slapping a lawsuit on you for knocking her clear across the street as you collide, but don’t worry, suing isn’t a norm here on the peninsula, and her fear of breaking her hip is much more dire than her pride getting wounded. And if she doesn’t move, like a good run of Dominos, you’ll potentially not only knock her down, but entire crew of grandmas lined up horizontally just waiting to take you out.

The Preventative/Counter Hip Check: I bet you’ve already determined where I’m going with this. Just count that this deceitful feather-light little lady with the hot pink lipstick and sweet smelling Channel #9 would like nothing more than to win the bet she’s already crafted with her cronies that she can at least get you to falter. But I urge you to counter back with the preventative hip check. Just when you see her gearing up to swing those bony wee hips of hers, prepare yourself to move slightly to the opposite side so that she loses her balance when she comes in for the kill. THEN, when she realizes with a look of shock on her face that you actually predicted her move, go in for the counter hip check that should send her clear across to the other side of the street. It works every time!

The Mei Wan Shu Umbrella Move

This is ancient Chinese move that I am trusting you to do with the utmost of care. As you can imagine, umbrellas are deadly weapons when handled by 4 foot 5 little women who seem to know the exact moment to open them as you’re passing; whereby, taking out at least one eye. However, the with aid of the Mei Shu Umbrella Move, you can avoid such disasters. Here is how the move works. Just when she’s about to unleash her crazy weapon of destruction, as seen by the twinkle in her eye and smirk on her face, you counter back with a quick duck and steal. Duck under her umbrella, and take it right from out of her hands. She’ll never see it coming! Plus, you probably needed a cute little lacy umbrella anyway. So there you go! Kept both your eyes, and walked away with a new umbrella, well done!

The Moral of the Story: Because these self-defense moves take a considerable amount of training, my suggestion is that you simply stare down those cute conniving grandmas and hold your ground. Move to the righthand side of the sidewalk and stay on track. Don’t let them deceive you with their sweet smiles; simply smile back and guard your piece of the sidewalk by walking straight ahead.

Till Soon,

Gabriella Opaz

Gabriella Opaz is co-founder of Catavino.net – a website dedicated to Spanish and Portuguese wine

A few weeks ago, Ryan and I decided to go for a long and leisurely hike through Parc de Collserola, a gorgeous and lush green natural space with over 8,000 hectares for you to get completely and utterly get lost in. It’s virtually an island dead center of one of the most densely populated urban areas on the Mediterranean coast, Barcelona.

According to the Parc de Collserola website:

Approximately 50 % of the population of Catalonia lives less than ten kilometres away from the park, which makes it the largest metropolitan park in the world: 8 times larger than the Bois de Boulogne in Paris, and 22 times larger than Central Park in New York. The valleys of the rivers Llobregat and Besós, together with the plain of Barcelona and the Vallés basin, mark the geographical boundaries of the Collserola massif.

Park de Collserola is a magical space filled with both natural and man made wonders that will keep you enchanted from the beginning of your hike to the end. Take this Flickr photo, for example, shot by Ryan while meandering aimlessly down a windy vine covered path. Passing an abandoned Casino from the late 1800’s with deteriorating stone terraces slowly crumbling under nature’s omnipotent presence, we came across this incredible graffiti artwork.

Like most of Europe, graffiti runs rampant throughout Spain. Schools are plastered with day-glow signatures, curvy and busty women with lustful looks, markings meaningful only to the artist, and occasionally, masterpieces like this. What does it mean? Who knows, but what would normally annoy me, while prancing through the forest, actually made us both stop in our tracks and smile.

This is far from the first time we’ve come across amazing little discoveries like a hidden bar called Les Gens Que Jaime decorated in red velvet behind a 3.5 foot high wooden door; La Cerveseria Artesana, a great international beer bar complete with a few roaming bar cats; or Bar Celta Pulperia, a sketchy looking tapas bar from the street, serving some of the most delicious patatas bravas and calamare in Barcelona.

The moral of the story here is to keep your mind, heart and eyes open to hidden treasures wherever you go. You’ll never know who you may meet or what you may stumble across, purely by accident, if you don’t take your eyes off the map and guide books and focus on what’s around you! Remember, look up!

Saludos,

Gabriella Opaz

Author of Catavino.net, a website deidcated to Spanish and Portuguese wines.

As an American, I am very used to having people over to my house. On several a Sunday, friends would gather together, bringing their favorite dip, dish or dessert, basking in the warmth and festivities of the group. Glasses could be heard clinking among roars of laughter, or even raucous debates would be bantered over the most recent controversial political faux pas or religious stand. In our home, old friends and new would share their lives, their histories and their feelings with us, regardless of who they were or how long we knew them. For us, our front door had open door policy.

Here in Spain, however, the customs are slightly different. A Spanish home, from an expat point of view, is considered sacred. It is reserved for close friends – which usually refers to the people you’ve known all your life – and extended family. Everyone else is asked to meet in the streets, restaurants, bars and cafes to share their experiences in the open air. Large groups gather comprised of people of all ages, styles and relations to stroll the streets, while stopping here and there for a beer or tapa.

I’ll never forget how bizarre I felt the first time I went out with 12 new friends in the heart of Madrid, not only feeling overwhelmed with the bustling city streets at 12am, but also the overwhelming notion that we travel and socialize in a pack. I was used to one on one conversations, where you sink into a deep philosophical discussion or simply giggle over insignificant stories. But to have a dozen people share stories at once, most of whom have known each other since grade school, took a bit of getting used to.

Yeah, I’ll admit that there are many times when I miss being over to a new friend’s home to have dinner, or simply share a drink. Equally true, I miss having the liberty of having people over to home, other than expats like us, but I’ve learned to accept what I cannot change.

When moving to a new culture, there are always these little hurdles we need to overcome. Whether it’s hanging clothes on the line to dry, losing your electricity for a week, or my inability to touch fruit with my bare hands in the fruit stand, we all need to learn how to go with the flow. Things can’t always remain the same, and the best we can do for both our psyche and emotions is to enjoy the ride, appreciating and respecting the culture around us. Not always easy when your native culture feel so natural, but a goal worthy of achieving.

Saludos,

Gabriella