Today, it’s not raining. This is something to celebrate, because although we need more rain, we were dying for a little moral boost. It’s been 3 weeks straight of cloudy skies, and while I appreciate what it has done for our rooftop garden and beautiful park across the street, I do miss sitting on the roof watching the sunset. Thus tonight, while the clouds are still creeping around the edges, is an evening to lounge on the roof and enjoy warm summer breezes and twinkling stars. It will be one of our first nights of the season, requiring a bottle of Alvarino paired with figs, fresh bread, smoked salmon, semi cured Manchego cheese and Boquerones, or, white anchovies.

Now many of you will immediately hear anchovy and think “Ewww, those oily, over salted, fishy tasting strips!” Now, while I also love this type of anchovy that you are thinking of, especially when wrapped around green olives on long toothpicks, this is not what I’m talking about. I’m referring to a long, white fillet that is soaked in vinegar and oil, and often eaten as is with your drink of choice. I love them! I can’t get enough. Slightly sweet with just a delicate vinegar edge to them. They are light slivers of candied sea water. At their best, they have a very firm flesh that gently gives way as you savor them on your palate. You will often see them in any local bar sitting in a shallow yellow oil, just waiting to be served. Honestly, they may not look very appetizing when placed behind a glass display, but they’re a local delicacy and worthy of an order. Commonly, they’ll be served to you in a plain …

When will I learn?! When will I put my foot down and say, “No honey, I am not a human guinea pig. I will not eat, nor drink something just because the fine people of La Rioja like it. And yes, I do love you, and I do appreciate your fine moral standards to try everything once, but love shouldn’t translate to my eating fried pig ears!” I say this having ingested one big, slimy, hairy and juicy bite of a pig’s ear last Friday night after thoroughly enjoying a round of perfectly sauteed mushrooms! The thought of it still makes my stomach churn in disgust; praying that one day, the image will disappear from my mind.

This isn’t the first time I’ve caved in after seeing Ryan’s eyes light up in fire, furious that I would succumb to my psychological fears. An open mind for me, means that I respect other people’s choices, as long as they don’t hurt themselves or others. Ryan, on the other hand, is fiery and passionate, a major reason why I adore him. No matter how grotesque a beverage or food item might be, he’ll happily take on the challenge, eager to research what others find appealing in the experience. And if those around him crave his respect, they best approach life like they were participating in Survivor, consuming anything that is even remotely edible. He’s not masochistic, requiring you to finish it if you don’t enjoy it, but he does ask that you try everything, once.

And against all logic, I’ll continue to follow his lead! I love his ridiculously high standards that he asks of not only himself, but others. I love his passion …

People love Spanish food! I hear it all the time from people who either have visited me or want to visit. “I love that Pai-lela! Ohhh give me some Tor-tila!” People love it regardless of whether or not they can pronounce it. I generally do too for that matter. But my real love is the ingrediants. You see Spain is the land of the most incredible ingredients known to man. While the dishes can be great, they can also consist of overcooked vegetables and sauce less fried foods - things that have never made sense to me. It’s the ingredients though that are the real stars, so fresh and so varied that I can never get enough of them.

Take tonight for example. Gabriella comes home from a long day at work and what does she want? “Something with vegetables and fish in it.” It’s a mantra that I know so well and Imore then happily appease from time to time. However, fish is the best when purchased at the market, which is open in the mornings when I’m working. Although I try to get there as often as possible because I love fish, it’s not always easy; but tonight, I walked down to the local supermarket and found some frozen shrimp - head on, body intact and well, better than any other frozen shrimp I’ve seen back in the States. It’s not that good frozen shrimp doesn’t exist back there; I’ve just never seen anything quite like the frozen shrimp you get here before. Along with some fresh string beans I encountered, I also picked up a sweet wine from Valencia thatwould have to pass as Mirin for that Asian touched she requested.