The proprietor stands behind the counter, eyeing us warily. “How many do you want?” he asks. Lisa and I look at each other. “Maybe twenty?” she offers tentatively.
“Is that …” Lisa trails off, never taking her eyes off the contents of the elaborate metal shrine in front of us. “A mummified arm,” I reply. “Yeah.” She is wordless for a moment, staring at the left arm of (according to a nearby placard) St. Vincent the Martyr. Then she looks back to me, as though…
There was no sun in Valencia. Only days and days of rain. Everyone repeatedly told us how rare this was, as though we might find solace in that fact, though I couldn’t figure out the logic behind it. “Bad weather is very unusual here. You must have terrible luck.” “Oh … good?”
We went to the Aquarium while we were in Valencia. It’s often what we do when we’re visiting a city and it’s raining outside – an unplanned tradition, one that formed slowly, but one we’ve stuck to nevertheless. L’Oceanographic Aquarium at the Ciudad of the Arts and Sciences is rather sprawling; Rand and I easily lost…
I’ve never been one to have much restraint when it comes to sweets, especially when I can eat them in the name of “research.” “It burns more calories this way,” I will say to Rand, my mouth full of fried dough. He has learned, over the years, not to challenge this assertion. The Spanish,…
Paco Roig Bakery, Mercat Central, Valencia: “I love you.” “Awww, well, I lo– wait … are you talking to the croissant?” “… Yes.”
My muscles hurt. This is only slightly unexpected. I have been known, on occasion, to go for a run, even if it might be in pursuit of an ice cream truck. But lately, I’ve been running, doing the occasional push-up, and, perhaps most shockingly of all, I’ve been eating with a more discerning eye. This…
Last week, I went for a run to the park near our home. And by “run” I mean jog. And by “jog” I mean walking in sort of bouncy way that, if viewed at a much higher speed, would suggest the act of physical exercise. All while wheezing like an asthmatic Darth Vader. Ahem.
While walking around Madrid, Rand and I saw this sculptural relief on the facade of the building, done in the classical style (is it ancient Roman in its influences? Let’s say yes, because I know squat about sculpture): – And then we saw the same relief, this time rendered with a Cubist slant: – And…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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