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Devastating Explosions

Bologna Sandwiches

Growing up, my mother always made lunches for me to "enjoy" at school.  My mother was from the Midwest, and apparently that didn't inspire much by way of being a children's lunchtime gourmet.  Most of my lunches consisted of a poorly-insulated thermos filled with cold Spaghetti-Os, a bag filled with potato chips or Cheetos, a fruit roll-up, and a bologna sandwich.  I hated bologna sandwiches...especially the bologna sandwich part.

My bologna sandwiches were special.  First off, they had bologna, which was already working against them.  Next, they were being spooned by a slice of cheese.  Not delicious cheese, but processed American cheese.  All this was sandwiched between two slices of the best bread money can buy: Wonder Bread.

The final abhorrence, however, was always to be found in the butter.  Why was there butter on this sandwich?  Answer: My mother liked to put butter on everything that involved bread.  Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?  There was definitely butter on those.  For some reason, I hated butter as a child...but that didn't stop my mom from slathering it all over my sandwich.

I remember this one kid in my first grade class that had some weird obsession with cheese and milk, but was never allowed to have them due to some sort of allergy.  My sandwiches possessed cheese, which made them very valuable to him.  Oftentimes I could trade my sandwich for his more appealing (and butterless) peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  I would watch him as he voraciously devoured my cheesy bologna delight, and then have to spend the rest of the afternoon in the nurse's office.

Yep.

Magical Belly Button Buddies

So the other day I was at Vons.  On my way out, I saw this:

 

It's one of those crane machines where you try to win stuffed animals but can't because it's rigged.  Who even carries quarters anymore, anyway?  It seemed really awesome and exciting, mostly because it looks like the animals are flying out at you and because they incorporate the word "magical".  Naturally, I decided this was the best thing ever.  I took a picture of it and sent it to my sister.  The following conversation pretty much sums up what is going on with these magical belly button buddies:

Sister: Hahaha what?  What do they do?  Have buttons in their tummies?

Me: They are magical, can't you read?

Sister: Yes, but what do they do that is magical???

Me: BUTTONS!

Sister: Oh.

(end scene)

Genetic Humor

Road trip champion!

Most would describe my sense of humor as fairly "odd".  Maybe sarcastic, dry, dark....etc.  I like to think I'm witty.  I've come to realize that my sense of humor is almost entirely derived from my dad, and Seinfeld.  Lots of Seinfeld.  I'm often laughing by myself.

Humor or not, my dad has a unique view on life.  He says things that are strange, but with a convincing straight face.  You can never tell if he's joking, or if he seriously believes what he is saying.  Usually he only acts like this in the comfort of his own home, so this is only experienced by a lucky few.  There are funnier things, but this is just what I thought of off the top of my head.

Examples:

1) When I was young, my dad convinced me that he could play the ukelele, all without actually showing me that he actually possessed this talent.  Dad: "Oh yeah, I played the ukelele all the time in college.  I was a ukelele prodigy."  I was fascinated with this "fact".  You may have noticed that I put "fact" in "quotes".  Years later, I somehow remember my dad's ukelele-playing prodigy skills when confronted with the presence of an actual ukelele in my parents' house.  I got all excited and asked him to play it.  He looked at me with a confused glare.  In front of my family, I talked about my dad's ukelele ridden past, and how he was about to spread his ukelele-playing joy all over our ears.  My mom seemed concerned, my dad seemed confused (or he was denying that he had messed with my head as a youngster), and everyone else thought I was crazy.  Dad: "I've never played an instrument in my entire life."  Thanks, dad.

2) My dad is convinced that he is actually Native American.  Ethnically, he is 75% German and 25% Norwegian...some would call this "white" or even "Caucasian" if they're feeling fancy.  Everytime the census rolls around, or any form that requires you to indicate your race, he checks "Native American".

Me: "Dad, Native American means that you are derived from the people that originally inhabited the Americas before the Europeans came over and took over the place."

Dad: "I was born in America, ergo, I am Native American! 'White' is not a race!"

Me: "That is true, but it doesn't change what the words imply; they are trying to gather ethnic information, and you are skewing their survey results."

Dad: "I was born in America!  I AM NATIVE AMERICAN."

3) The other day my dad e-mailed me a blurry picture of a podium.  The e-mail stated, "We had a great time seeing Huell Howser in person last night."  No context, no details, no explanation.

4) I was at my parents' house one evening watching television with my dad.  Out of nowhere, he blurts, "I found a typo in the newspaper, and I e-mailed them about it."  No further explanation, no details.  After a lengthy period of silence, in which I was expecting the rest of the story, I finally ask what he was talking about.  As it turns out, while my dad was reading the newspaper he noticed that the journalist had referred to the contiguous 48 states as the "continental" United States.  My dad was perturbed by the fact that people often forget that Alaska is on the same continent, and is thereby included when referring to the continental states.  He decided to e-mail the journalist and point out that he had misused the word "continental", and that he should have said "contiguous".  The journalist then e-mailed him back to say, "Thank you for pointing that out, [jackass]."  It didn't actually say jackass, but I imagined that's what the journalist wanted to write so I added it myself.  My dad was very satisfied with himself.

5) One day I was looking at a magazine at my parents' house.  It had a picture of a lovely place on the front, and I wanted to know where it was.  I thought it looked like some coastal Mexican resort.  My dad was convinced it was Europe.  Unfortunately, there was no caption for the photo so we were left unsatisfied.  Three days later, I receive an e-mail from my dad informing me that the picture was taken off the coast of an Italian island.  He had gleaned this information by correspondence with the magazine editor.  My dad was very satisfied with himself.

6) As you can deduce from item #2, I am white.  I was born in El Centro, California, which is the opposite of white.  Apparently it was very easy to spot me in the nursery because the other babies are not white and bald (guess what ethnicity they are).  My dad is always very politically correct when it comes to issues of race.  He refers to Mexican babies as "wolf babies".

7) My dad has some serious road rage.  He likes to drive fast, and he likes to drive furious.  We took a lot of road trips in my youth, with our family stuffed inside of a Chevy Astro Van.  My dad barreled down the two lane highways of middle America, tailgating any fool that stood in his way.  If they were going too slow he did what we call "dad hands", where he throws up his hands in disgust in a seemingly involuntary movement.  Once I thought I'd ask why he tailgated everybody, since it didn't seem to be getting us anywhere any faster.  My dad replied, "I'm intimidating them so they'll move out of my way."  My dad taught me how to win at driving across the country.

8) My parents went out of town, and my dad left directions to take care of the family dog, Echo.  Here is a picture of the instructions he left:

Honey Nut Cheerios?

9) My dad likes to play games, but more importantly he likes to win.  Whenever we are about to start playing a game, he usually states, "I love this game.  I've never lost a game of [insert name of game] in my life."  It doesn't matter if we had played it ten times the night before and he lost every time, or if he's never even heard of the game.  In his mind, he has won, always.  If you inform him of the facts, he somehow makes you feel wrong.  He is always the score-keeper, and he writes "Winner" on the sheet instead of his name.  As soon as we start playing, if he starts to lose he falls into a sulky, temper tantrum laden state.  Once the game is over, however, he will proclaim to anyone in his path that he is the champion.  Sometimes he actually sings "I Am the Champion" by Queen.  I am aware that the song is actually "We Are the Champions", but that's not what my dad thinks.  If he actually won, he will be like "in your face!"  and "oh yeah, I win, you LOOOOOOSE!", etc.  This is fine now that I am an adult, but imagine that you are eight years old, and your dad is gloating all over your impressionable self confidence.  He raised my siblings and I to be cutthroat, game-playing champions (and sore losers).

10) One day I realized that I had never seen my mom in the driver's seat if my dad was also in the car.  He was always the one driving.  I asked them if mom had ever driven dad anywhere, and he quickly replied, "No!  Why would she?  If I drive we'll get there faster."  My mom just shrugged.

Breakfast of Champions!

Breakfast time!

Apparently most people have an aversion to eating certain things at breakfast time that they would otherwise happily enjoy during other times of the day.  I did not inherit this trait, and have slowly realized over the years that many of my breakfasts are not considered to be "socially acceptable."

Examples:

1) Yogurt (fine on its own) + dark chocolate M&M's + Wild Cherry Pepsi (see previous post)

2) Sushi (especially leftover sushi from the night before, especially if it contains raw fish, and especially if it is covered with giant blobs of wasabi)

3) Banana (fine on its own) + a bag of baked jalapeño cheese crunchies from Trader Joe's

4) A bag of wild berry flavored gummy Lifesavers

5) Vietnamese sandwiches...with fish sauce! (I figure if the Vietnamese bakery will make me a sandwich at 8 am, then it is ok to eat the sandwich at 8 am)

6) Kraft macaroni and cheese (especially if it is leftover from the night before, and especially if it is cold)

7) Regular flavored baked cheese crunchies from Trader Joe's (no banana)

8) A can of "Ragin' Cajun" flavored Pringles

9) Enchiladas

10) Chicken tikka masala

11) A dark chocolate candy bar with Altoids peppermints sprinkled on top

I'm currently eating item #3.  Guess what time it is???  (Answer: 9:00 am)

Yay!

Pepsi, Yogurt, and M&M's

Proudly showing off the fruits of my labor.

Ok, that's enough with the travel letters.  We made it home safe and sound, and US Customs took away our jamón.  It was sad; we had purchased $50 worth of tasty, Spanish jamón.  But...it could have been infested with hoof and mouth disease, and we wouldn't want that.  It got tossed into an incineration bin, along with somebody's rotten banana.

On to important things!  I have a love/hate relationship with caffeine.  When I was a young and naive undergraduate chemistry major, I began working in a research lab.  I was constantly surrounded by jaded grad students and a crazy, substance-abusing French post-doc (if alcohol and cigarettes are to be considered substances).  Every day at 3:30 pm, the lab trudged over to the coffee cart.  I always went, but I realized there was a problem: I didn't drink caffeine.  I have the metabolism of a raging 13-year-old boy, but in the body of a very petite lady...I am overly sensitive to anything that can be ingested: medicine, sugar, caffeine, etc.  A can of soda would normally result in my heart beating so fast that I thought I might be dying for sure, and then I wouldn't sleep for two days.  It was what I imagined taking crack cocaine would be like.

In order to belong to the bonding moment that was coffee cart time, I would quietly order hot chocolate or a decaf latte and play along.  Eventually it was discovered that I didn't actually drink caffeine ever, and this became a subject of great concern and frivolity for the grad students.

"How do you stay awake ALL DAY?!?!"

"How will you survive in grad school?"

"How do you pull all-nighters??"

I politely informed them that I didn't need caffeine, and that I was naturally high on life.  I was a very efficient, homework-loving student, and had never had the need to pull an all-nighter with the other plebeians.  They laughed at me and assured me that this would all change in grad school.  They thought they knew better.  I thought they were wrong.

So, I decided that getting a Ph.D. in chemistry would be a great idea.  I'm going to change the world!  I'm so smart!

This was fine, until about half way through my second year of the five year program.  At this point in time, you had to prove that you were worthy of a Ph.D. by going through second year oral exams.  Apparently getting a Ph.D. in chemistry is hard.  This exam was built up to be one of the most terrifying experiences of my academic life.  I quickly learned that I could not stay awake all day like I had in my youth two years previous.  I needed a crutch: Wild Cherry Pepsi.  There was a vending machine in my lab building, which I visited once a day to imbibe in some sweet cherry-flavored satisfaction.  Eventually it became twice a day.  One day I caught the creepy Pepsi delivery man refilling the machines, and was scared at how excited I was when he offered me a free Wild Cherry Pepsi, while using a voice that I can only imagine is normally reserved for enticing children into a molester van with candy.  Only it was not a molester van and children, it was a Pepsi delivery truck and a chemistry Ph.D. student.

I decided that these vending machine visits were not financially viable (and possibly going to result in a kidnapping), so I purchased myself a twelve-pack of cans.  This was a bad idea, because now that cherry elixir was within arms' reach all day long.  The satisfaction of drinking this much soda was enhanced by the fact that I could collect points for every soda I drank.  I eventually collected so many points that I received a free Pepsi challenge vintage shirt...which I'm actually wearing as I type this, which was actually just a coincidence.

As the date of the exam drew closer, my crippling addiction to Wild Cherry Pepsi began affecting other areas of my dietary life.  I stopped cooking for myself, and went on a binge Lean Cuisine purchasing spree.  For breakfast, every day for about two months, I ate a cup of Yoplait yogurt, a small bag of dark chocolate M&M's, and a can of Wild Cherry Pepsi.  The small bag of M&M's soon turned into a large bag, and it soon became more than just for breakfast.  This dietary nonsense was punctuated by sporadic Lean Cuisine inhalations.  Luckily, this only lasted for two months, because I'm pretty sure my stomach almost dissolved as a result.

Anyway, I eventually weaned myself off of Wild Cherry Pepsi and dark chocolate M&M's, but it took about two years.

Since then, I've discovered better ways to ravage my intestinal tract, like coffee and tea!  Mostly tea.  LOTS OF TEA.  Oh god...  I usually binge on caffeine for a couple of months, and then get all high and mighty and decide that I can indeed quit caffeine if I want.  So I do, and sometimes I feel hasty and I end up with caffeine headaches which I refuse to treat because I'm tougher than suffering.  Then I start to get tired again and I go, "I'll just have one cup of tea today."  Before I know it, I'm falling prey to that devilish cup of tasty satisfaction with the regularity of a heroine addict.  Excellent.

French France

Taking a dip in the Mediterranean (Argelès-sur-Mer, France)

June 27, 2011

I forgot to write last night! We are still in France in the seaside town of Argelès-sur-Mer. Yesterday we went to the beach to take a dip in the Mediterranean. The sand is quite rocky and hard on the feet, but the water is slightly warmer and much cleaner than back home.

We've eaten many crepes, and somehow they are always perfect. Everywhere in France seems to sell crepes! Oddly, almost every restaurant is a pizza restaurant, and we have decided that French pizza is not good. 

American sandwich, found only in France (Argelès-sur-Mer, France)

They also have a lot of places trying to sell "American" food. We ordered a hot dog, which was set inside a hollowed out baguette. The baguettes here are awesome...can't say the same for their hot dogs. A very popular food item is the "American sandwich", which is a baguette filled with fries and meat (either steak or hamburger patties)...I don't know about you but I have never eaten nor seen this in America. It's very strange.

French hot dog, inside a hollow baguette (Argelès-sur-Mer, France)

Luckily, France is not as obsessed with jamón as Spain, and they have plentiful fruit markets and various vegetables and salads. Yesterday for breakfast I had a baguette with jam, which seems to be standard. Baguettes (and crepes!) are everywhere!

We are in wine country (though I'm not sure if any part of France is not wine country). As soon as we crossed the border into France, the hillsides were covered with grape vines. We are staying at a hotel that used to be a wine

The vineyards at Chateau Valmy (Argelès-sur-Mer, France)

cottage, and it's kind of in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by grapes. It's the nicest place we've stayed so far, but also one of the cheapest! This morning we are going to do a bit of wine tasting, and hope to bring back a bit of the Languedoc-Rousillon region.

Today we head back to Barcelona, and tomorrow we fly home. :-(

Hope to see you all soon!

K & S

Bonjour from France!

In front of the Teatro-Museo Dalí (Figueres, Spain)

June 25, 2011

Our last day or so in Barcelona was uneventful, since we were so busy relaxing. Barcelona is home to one Pablo Picasso, and there is a museum there just for him (Museu Picasso). We attempted to visit it, but it turns out that June 24th is a big holiday in Spain (the celebration of spring turning into summer, the Festival of Saint Joan) and is one of the five days all year that the museum is closed. Sad. The holiday also resulted in fireworks being shot off all night about a block away from our hotel room. This resulted in ear plugs.

Because the museum didn't work out, we strolled through a nearby park that led to a full size replica of the Arc de Triomphe. We also sought out a place to buy coral jewelry, as

Dalí's tomb (Figueres, Spain)

the Mediterranean area produces some of the best in the world! There are little carts everywhere selling crepes and waffles with ice cream and syrups...probably influenced by their proximity to France.

The following day we rented a car and began our side trip to France. On the way we stopped in the tiny Spanish city of Figueres, home to one Salvador Dalí and his self-designed museum, Teatro-Museo Dalí. This was quite exciting for me, as Dalí is likely my favorite artist. It housed many of his paintings, his stereoscopic works,

The small fishing town of Cerbère (France)

sculptures, and his jewels, among other things. It's also where he was buried.

We then traversed the countryside and made our way to France. We stopped about a mile or so past the border at our hotel in a small fishing town called Cerbère, that is very much like Avalon on Catalina Island. Last night they had a music festival, which featured several choirs singing by the sea (which we can see out our window). I also had my first bite of an authentic French crepe, filled with butter and sugar...yum.

A traditionally dressed men's folk choir (Cerbère, France)

So it would appear that not many people speak English here, and they don't speak Spanish at all, which makes things interesting. There is also no internet here, which is why your e-mail is delayed. Today we leave to go to another seaside town near the wine country, called Argelès-sur-Mer, where we will have internet once again! When you receive this e-mail, you will know that we have arrived.

Au Revoir,
K & S

Barcelona, Ole!

View of the cathedral from our hotel window (Barcelona, Spain)

June 23, 2011

Yesterday we arrived in Barcelona by plane and made our way to our hotel in the heart of the city. We are right next to an old cathedral (though not their famous one), which we can see out our window.

Barcelona is in the province of Catalonia, where locals speak a dialect of Spanish called Catalan. It sounds like a strange hybrid of Spanish and French, and we can't understand or even read it. They use a lot of x's and those c's with the squiggly bit underneath. Luckily, everything is also in normal Spanish (Castellano) and everyone seems to still speak it as well.

Castellano (top) vs. Catalan dialects (bottom)

We've done a lot of relaxing and a little shopping so far. Barcelona is large like Madrid, but where Madrid felt like New York, Barcelona feels like San Diego. We walked down the famous Las Ramblas, which is a major shopping street that dead ends at the port of Barcelona. One vendor was selling pets, including baby ducks, chickens, and chipmunks! The port was beautiful, and we sat at the end of a pier and watched all the boats moving about. We also got our first glimpse of the Mediterranean! To get to a sandy beach we have to take the subway, so we might try that tomorrow.

Port of Barcelona (Barcelona, Spain)

We found a cheese shop today and bought a small wheel of manchego viejo for a very cheap price. We also got

some vacuum sealed jamón ibérico to bring home. The meat shop where we picked it up had the pig thighs out on a table, and when we accepted the butcher's offer to try some, he sliced that jamón right off in front of us. Que bueno!

Spanish artisan cheeses (Barcelona, Spain)

Shoe lovers will appreciate that Barcelona is home to the espadrille. We visited a famous espadrille shop, where they make the cords and the shoes in the shop. They had quite the variety for both men and women, and both Husband S and I now possess some very authentic Spanish footwear.

Espadrille soles at La Manual Alpargatera (Barcelona, Spain)

In other fashion news, harem pants are a must have in Spain for the ladies, and I may have obtained some during our shopping expeditions. I will be trend-setting when I get back to the states!

We will be in Barcelona for another day and a half, then we are driving to France for a brief stay before heading back home. We don't speak a word of French other than "oui", "no", and "fromage", so hopefully they speak English or Spanish there too. We don't have reliable internet here in Barcelona, so all of you skypers will just have to tough it out.

Con amor,
K & S

Buen Dia from Granada

The old silk market, now a bazaar (Granada, Spain)

June 21, 2011

Hola!

Yesterday afternoon we arrived in Granada, which used to be the greatest Moorish city in Spain until the Catholics conquered it. Last night we weaved our way through the old silk market, which is nowadays transformed into a labyrinth of bazaar shops featuring Moroccon-esque trinkets. We also found a few spice markets, where we bought some Granadan tea that we had to scoop out of a large bin. It smells like heaven. Apparently they are known for their saffron here, and it is much cheaper than back home. The North African feel of Granada made us a little less sad that we had to cancel our side trip to Morocco (due to a cafe bombing, Osama bin

Intricate tile work at the Alhambra (Granada, Spain)

Laden capturing type events, and the resulting anti-American sentiments).

Today we toured the Alhambra, which is the largest castle in Spain (I think?). It's Moorish in design, and features sprawling and meticulously manicured gardens that are watered by an elaborate irrigation system that boggled Husband S's mind. Later we went to San Sebastián's lookout point, which gave us an amazing view of the Alhambra in its entirety. The vista point was located in the Albayzín quarter, which is the world's best preserved Moorish district. Many gypsies live here,

A reflecting pool at the Alhambra (Granada, Spain)

and they were dancing and singing at the vista point. We were told that gypsy women will try to give you a "free" sprig of rosemary, and if you accept it then they will grab your hand and force you to pay five euros for a palm reading. We actually saw this in Sevilla, but not here in Granada.

It is HOT here. Every day is hotter than the last. It was 97 today...which isn't that bad unless you're walking up and down hills and streets all day every day like we are. We have taken a break on the Spanish food and recently enjoyed a barbecue chicken pizza and some cheeseburgers. Fruits and veggies are scarce in Spain, so we slurp down smoothies and snarf down iceberg lettuce salads drizzled with olive oil (salad dressing doesn't

View of the Alhambra from San Sebastian's point (Granada, Spain)

seem to exist here) as our only means of combating vast amounts of breads and meats.

Delicious looking gelato (Granada, Spain)

The best olive oil in the world supposedly comes from the Andalucía region of Spain, where both Sevilla and Granada lie. Spain is responsible for 1/5 of the world's olive oil production, and is the first country to ever produce olive oil in the first place. We sought out an olive oil shop, and the owner gave us samples of different types. At the same shop we also tried sherry (which is also world renowned in this region) and some sweet wines. We picked up a few goodies to bring home with us.

While we both decided that Sevilla was more picturesque, Granada definitely had more breathtaking views. Tomorrow we head to Barcelona, for beaches and a supposed 20 degree drop in the weather!

Buenas noches,
K & S

The Latest from Sevilla

Iberian meats with manchego viejo (Madrid, Spain)

June 19, 2011

Hey all,

Before heading to Sevilla, we decided to get a giant plate of Iberian cured meats (jamón, chorizo, sausage, lomo) and we had our first taste of Spanish cheese, manchego viejo. That cheese was amazing!

We took our second ride on the high speed rail to Sevilla, across endless fields of sunflowers, corn, and olive trees. Spain is known for their olives, so we have tried eating them...but we are decidedly not olive people.

Sevilla itself is very different than Madrid. There are less people, smaller streets, and the architecture is very African from the time of the Moors. Everything

The largest cathedral in Spain (Sevilla, Spain)

is very colorful! There is a giant cathedral here (Spain's largest), which features a large bell tower that rings quite often. Today we visited the Alcázar, which is a Moorish style castle/palace. It was quite picturesque, and is apparently still used today for certain political events. The entire city is super beautiful, and we've seen at least four wedding parties taking pictures at the cathedral and the Alcázar.

For lunch we grabbed some bocadillos, which are basically baguette sandwiches. Husband S had a jamón and queso bocadillo, while I had a tortilla bocadillo. A tortilla in Spain is actually a potato omelette, and there is no such thing as a Mexican tortilla here. People here eat bread

A plaza at the Alcázar (Sevilla, Spain)

with everything, which is fine with me because all of the bread is amazing! For dinner we had more paella in a plaza surrounded by orange trees. There are orange trees literally everywhere, and falling oranges have become quite common and startling. Fresh squeezed orange juice is served at every single restaurant...and it's delicious!

We walked down to their famous shopping area but everything is closed on Sunday. We window shopped in preparation for tomorrow morning. On our way back we stopped by the "Metropol Parasol" which is brand new, and now the largest wooden structure in the world. It cost 90 million euros to build, and we found many people camped out under the structure in protest.

Metropol Parasol, the largest wooden structure in the world (Sevilla, Spain)

It was approximately 10 million degrees Celsius outside today, so I bought a cheap fan off the street to keep myself cool.

We decided to culture ourselves, so this evening we took in a flamenco show at a local flamenco club, Los Gallos. It was pretty fantastic...Ole! Sevilla is where flamenco originated. Sevilla is also home to bull fighting, so we wandered around their bull fighting arena. We did

Outside the matador arena (Sevilla, Spain)

not see a fight, because we thought that watching someone kill a bull would be depressing.

Anyway, tomorrow we head to Granada via regular slow train. Our internet in Granada will not be as reliable, but when we have it we'll be on Skype and try to post pics on Facebook. Join us next time as the adventure continues!

Adios muchachos!
K & S

Hoy en Toledo

Churros con chocolate (Madrid, Spain)

June 17, 2011

Yesterday we went to the Prado museum! We saw many a Goya (most exciting was an entire room filled with his "black paintings"), El Greco, and even the famed "Las Mininas" by Velásquez. Afterwards we had ham croquettes and fried shrimp, which seem to be common everywhere. We also stopped by a chocolateria, to eat churros! In the home of the churro, they are not covered in cinnamon, but are instead served with a side of warm chocolate pudding for dipping. We ate them while sitting outside at a small alley way cafe, which seem to pop up in almost every street.

Cruising the streets of Toledo! (Toledo, Spain)

Today we took the high speed train for a day trip to the city of Toledo, which used to be the old capital of Spain when it was under Muslim rule. It is a fortified city, which is surrounded by large stone walls and sits on a large hill. We went inside their famous cathedral, which is the richest cathedral in Spain, and the second largest. In the 1200s, they built it directly over the old cathedral, which had served as a mosque. It was quite grandiose, and was filled with paintings by famous artists, many stained glass windows, and other things. 

Toledo is also home to marzipan, the delectable almond paste candy made by nuns to support their nunnery. We ate a lot of it, and decided that it was delicious. This is also where they manufacture the world's best steel, so sweet swords were being sold on every corner.
 

Marzipan (Toledo, Spain)

We had more tapas for lunch, and this time had the most authentic cuisine yet. We had partridge salad, more croquettes, tuna belly cheese squares, pickled peppers, and fried cod with mayonnaise. The feature of our meal was the foie gras dipped in white chocolate... we decided that this was NOT delicious.

Tomorrow we leave Madrid for Sevilla, home of Flamenco and much Spanish culture. Ay ay!

Hasta Luego, 
K & S

More from Madrid

Inner Courtyard, Palacio Real (Madrid, Spain)

June 16, 2011 

Today is day 3 in Madrid. We have yet to overcome jetlag, and can't fall asleep at a reasonable hour...which results in us waking up at noon. This isn't that bad, since the sun doesn't set until 10 pm, and the city is all hustle and bustle since the locals start eating dinner around 9 pm.

Yesterday we went to the royal palace, where Spanish royalty of yore has resided. We did a self guided tour. My favorites were the throne room, the porcelain room (the entire room was made out of porcelain!), and the royal pharmacy (basically an outdated chemistry lab). The current king lives in a more "modest" castle on the outskirts of Madrid.

Paella and sangria at the Plaza Mayor (Madrid, Spain)

 We also went to the Museo de Reina Sofia, which is Spain's national modern art museum. We saw many a Picasso, Dalí, and Miró, among others. The highlight was Picasso's famous painting, "Guernica".

For dinner we sat in the Plaza Mayor at a typical outdoor European cafe. We had a seafood paella and sangria! Jamón (ham) is everywhere, but it's not like at home. It's typically cured and sliced thin, so it's more like prosciutto...and delicioso!

Surprisingly my Spanish is coming back to me, and between the two of us we know enough to talk to people in Spanish in order to get food, directions, etc.

If you want updates, Husband S is posting a couple of iPhone photos every day on his Facebook page (they also pop up on my page). We are also available for skyping when we return to the hotel at night, which is morning for you guys. We had a successful skype with Sister M last night. My skype name is *****, if you feel the urge!

 

Today we are off to the Prado, which is Spain's equivalent of the Louvre or the Met...a world famous museum. Afterwards we intend to do a tapas bar run, followed by churros con chocolate!

Hasta Luego,
K & S

Hola from Madrid!

Jamón tostas, croquettes, and Spanish beer!

My husband and I recently went to Spain and wee bit of France for about 2.5 weeks.  Approximately every other day, I wrote my friends and family in the style of a travel journal to describe my experiences.  This was inspired by my grandmother's travel journals, but hers were very much more meticulous and she traveled all over the world.  I decided to post mine here in the interesting blog, starting with our arrival (the shortest of the notes).  My mother is currently typing up my grandmother's handwritten journals, so eventually those will be up as well and you can enjoy a journey back in time!

June 14, 2011

Hola!

We have made it safely and are currently in our air conditioned hotel in downtown. This is important because it is very hot outside! There is a bidet in the bathroom, which Husband S is looking up online for proper etiquette. We are going to explore for "dinner" even though it is 8 am back home. Hopefully we can fall asleep after that and avoid jetlag.

Adios!
K & S

Two Down, One in Limbo

So time has passed, and I am still dealing with bills from February 2010.  Yikes.

Updates continuing from the last post:

Pathology Lab:  Success!  They finally did everything properly and Blue Shield paid them.  However, after passing the task off to my husband, it took three strongly worded phone calls to the pathology lab themselves after they kept sending us $800 bills every month or so.

Specialist:  Success!  A similar tale to that of the pathology lab.  It took a while, including many persuasive phone calls to the inept billing staff, but they did it.  Unbelievable.

Hospital:  Still unfinished business here, folks.  They actually never contacted me.  I had to contact them, because I was becoming nervous at what sort of bill collectors may be showing up at my door due to mysterious bills that I had never received or paid.  When the situation was explained to their billing department, they were surprised to see that this fiasco had been neglected for so long.  It would seem that I had just slipped through the cracks of bureaucracy, and had simply been forgotten in time.  They had long ago billed UHC, and simply needed to send Blue Shield a copy of the explanation of benefits along with a bill.  They seemed to understand this...it turns out all is now in "progress", but a quick check-up on the billing personnel at the hospital revealed that Blue Shield had informed them that it would take six months to consider their bill.  Really?  Six months to decide if you want to pay your bills?  I should be the one sending bill collectors after you, Blue Shield.  I especially thought this time delay was strange, considering that both the pathology lab and the specialist had been paid in a timely manner once their respective billing departments got their acts together.  However, being completely jaded with ineptitude from every direction, I'm just going with the flow.  We'll see if a ginormous bill shows up at my door.

Things I have done in the time it has taken for these bills to be rectified:
1) Planned my wedding
2) Got married
3) Changed my name
4) Wrote my Ph.D. dissertation and graduated with said Ph.D.
5) Spent three weeks in Europe
6) Moved 200 miles away
7) Got a new job

Apparently, I've been more productive than certain other people.

I don't have much more to talk about in terms of my health care debacles, but I will continue writing interesting things.  Don't worry.