Spain, Day 6 (tardy, I know...)

Culinary Doldrums
My navy blue agenda emblazoned with my school crest was one of my first purchases upon arriving in New Haven as a freshman. I had grown accustomed to carrying one around for 10 years since the time when it was still called an "assignment notebook." The agenda had become a permanent fixture of my backpack, not really something that I used, but rather something to decorate when class failed to attract my attention. My agenda entertained me, and to express my appreciation I continue to purchase one at the beginning of every academic year. Whether I use it or not is less important.

Looking back over the last academic year, whole weeks are blank, and in some months the agenda served only as a place for me to write "None" beside a class name, in celebration of the lack of problem sets or reading. Considering the fact that it is an academic year calendar, running from September through August, I'm not quite sure why I lugged it across Italy and brought it to Spain--perhaps to warm my backpack again. I'm glad that I didn't ditch it in a canal in Venice, however, because that agenda is now serving probably its heaviest daily use in years.

Since arriving in Spain last Wednesday, I have recorded every dish of every meal in my trusty blue agenda. I'm not sure why, maybe it's to remind myself when I pass the ice cream shop why I should NOT get a scoop of coconut ice cream (or cucurucho de helado de coco if you will). Alternately, it has been a vital reference when it comes time to record my daily travails.

For example, last night the toils of excessive eating and the stress of foreign travel finally sapped me of my energy and by 9 p.m. I was longing for a bed during dinner, and at 10 p.m. I was passing out on a couch. Though I regained my strength, I couldn't muster the energy to write about my day, at least that is what I told myself.

In retrospect, I understand my unwillingness to write to have been more than a product of exhaustion, but rather inspired by sheer apathy with the day's meals. It's a terrible thing when a meal fails to distinguish itself, not because it was poorly prepared, but because the only feeling it induces is boredom.

I feel truly guilty about having passed this judgment on yesterday's meals, and I am compelled to explain the denunciation as a curse of comparison. It was in comparison to the other food I have enjoyed while here that yesterday's meals failed to distinguish themselves. Nevertheless, I am confident that the listlessness of Monday's cuisines has been emphasized sufficiently, if only in the fact that the beginning of this entry includes an extended description of my relationship to my agenda. But it is true, that when I speak of comparisons, my agenda cannot lie. Although I will say that my agenda tried to protect the Monday meals by putting them on a new page, but I remembered how crammed Friday, Saturday, and Sunday had been with dishes, ingredients, and flavor so Monday was, well, Mondayish.

Rather than complain, perhaps I should treat Monday instead as a palate cleanser. Monday was my lemon sorbet, or the ginger to my sushi (actually ginger has far too much flavor, and I enjoy it a bit too much in various forms for me to regard Monday as highly as ginger). Furthermore, Monday was a lesson: I have been inspired to take more direct action in ensuring the quality of my meals and in influencing their development. I firmly believe that this personal involvement will greatly augment the excitement of the few meals that remain to me in Benicarlo. Already, I have taken steps to secure an invitation for dinner Tuesday with my aunt, who will inevitably ask my opinion before preparing her menu, which I will not hesitate in giving. After all, I am sure she will want me to be as happy as possible with her hospitality. It's not like I get to eat with her everyday.

p.s. as for actually detailing Monday's menu, I will do so below, having failed above...
(taken from my trusty agenda)

Bkfst: Assorted fresh fruits (The grapes were steeped in flavor that flowed from bite, while the overly watery and totally tasteless plum set a dull tone for the day. If only I hadn't eaten it after the grapes)
Lunch: A broccoli (and maybe other vegetables) and cheese soufflé, steak, a cream of carrot soup
Dinner: A rice with pulled chicken and diced vegetables and soy sauce (?), think Spanish fried rice..., Tomatoes, olives, and sardines(?) prepared in olive oil and vinegar, melon (a green-skinned, very sweet honeydew, which ended the day as sweetly as it began, but unfortunately wasn't enough to redeem it )