Spain, Day 36

A warm baguette, perfectly flaky yet sufficiently supple to envelope the slices of sausage and aged Manchegan cheese and softly balance their strong flavors--I can imagine no better way to celebrate a return to health, an end to my hermitical life-style, and my final week in Spain. The scene was a knoll along the edge of the Parque del Retiro, overlooking the Bosque del Recuerdo, and bordering boisterous activity of some frolicking, scantily-clad French youths. The weather was a warm sun hovering around 30 degrees, but with a refreshing breeze, especially in the cool shade far below some thankfully bug-free branches. Nursing a classy Supermarket plastic bag, I trundled through this sweeping arboreal escape snuggled near the bustling heart of Madrid. I pushed aside the aesthetics of my appearance, however, as I scoped out the perfect place for my solo picnic (a bit more graceful than my umpteenth solo meal in a restaurant).

Desperately worried that the park was too pretty and manicured for a picnic I finally settled on a welcoming hill a bit off the main path and I set out my spread: rich slices of Iberian ham, some aromatic sausage, and two regional cheeses, the first an aged Manchegan cheese similar to that we enjoyed at a certain Bread and Cheese Party in the Pierson Courtyard during Finals Week, and the second cheese a semi-cured sheep's milk cheese, and finally some sun-dried tomatoes (which, sadly, were not half as flavorful as how I imagine those sun-dried tomatoes from the vegetable market in Granada that appeared much rosier and full-bodied would have tasted). Of course, the crusty loaf is a given, and the bottle of mineral water though refreshing was a lackluster substitute for a bottle of fine Spanish wine, but I settled upon the water in a concession to common sense and health.

My only disappointment at lunch time today was when I reached into the bread sleeve only to discover that piece by pleasurable piece I had dismantled almost the entire loaf leaving only the end with which to pair a couple remaining sun-dried tomatoes and a selective sampling of meats and cheese. I polished off the sausage and the semi-cured sheep's cheese and re-wrapped my remaining Ham and Manchego Cheese for supper, then lay back and enjoyed the scenery for five minutes before I started to notice the ants, the prickly grass stalks, and the encroaching sun and decided to pack-up my picnic. It's amazing the powerful enchantment that food can cast, dulling every sensitivity to all other possible stimulation. During that picnic, my focus was not the landscape, nor the people around me, nor the clean breeze that blew through the park. I noticed those things only before I pulled out the bread and after I crumpled up the bag it came in.