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Archive for the ‘Food (Security)’ Category

La “Huerta” (Valencia-style)

Posted in Cities, Culture, Density, Food (Security), New Urbanism, Spain, Sustainability Planning, Valencia on August 30, 2011 | 1 Comment »

Victor + JFL

My wonderful friend Victor is a Valenciano, born and raised.  He is also one of my favourite things about Valencia.

Kind, generous, intelligent, and funny (assuming I translated his jokes correctly), he welcomed both JFL and I into his home and his circle of friends.  We met through a local language exchange, but our informal meeting quickly developed into a solid friendship – now he’s stuck with us for life, because I do visit (see: last year).

He is one of the good guys.

It is also through Victor that I came to understand some peculiarities about Spanish vs. Canadian culture.  Here are two examples that particularly stand out:

Space & Distance

  • Victor lives with his girlfriend in the family home (sans family) – a beautiful traditional farmhouse just outside the city limits, or as Victor says, “in the country.”  Over the course of the year he generously picked us up many times to drive us over for meals or social gatherings, noting how far away it was and the fact that we didn’t have a car.  Funny thing is, at the end of the year while staying with Victor before we returned home, we discovered that there is a local bus nary a 6 minute walk from his door, that drops you off in the centre of the city.  Couldn’t be easier.  In fact, this bus runs more often than most Vancouver buses, which made us feel awful about having him chauffeur us the many times that he did.

La Huerta

This anecdote taught us that the Spanish definition of “country” and “far” are very different from the Canadian perception.  While indeed Victor lives in the middle of small agricultural plots that have been farmed for many centuries, there are also all the urban amenities that one could imagine (e.g. grocery store, post office, bakery, hardware store, restaurant) within a 5 minute walk.

WALK.

That is not “country” in Canada.  In Canada country means driving for an hour on your tractor to get back to the farmhouse having never left your property.  Which speaks to the European perception of space and distance, completely contrary to the North American perception.  Interesting cultural difference.

In The Kitchen

  • Spaniards don’t bake.  Which is confusing, because there are bakeries on practically every corner, but just try to find some basic ingredients in the grocery store and you’ll feel like Indiana Jones on a crusade for the last bottle of vanilla in the city.  And don’t even try to borrow a mixer as nobody has one in their kitchen (they do have jamón holders galore).  Which means that Spaniards also don’t know the difference between butter and margarine when it comes to baking (in fact they often bake with oil).  For those who do bake, you know that this is the critical difference between mouth-watering goodness and a disappointing cookie that will make Valencianos think that Canadians have strange gastronomic sensibilities.  Which is exactly what happened when Victor purchased margarine instead of butter for our group gingerbread cookies (something they had never heard of).

Cookies

Disaster.

While the team had more than enough fun decorating them (a total novelty for our friends who had never made cookies… or icing… or baked at home), they were not so fond of eating them.  Upon tasting the cookies there was a series of polite, forced smiles noting that “maybe Canadian cookies are different.”

Sigh.

While I might have been confused on these two matters, I’m certain that Victor himself is pure gold and I can’t wait to host him in Vancouver where we will drive (more than 15 minutes) to get to the countryside where we can gorge on cookies and practice our spanglish.

Gracias amigo.

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Pincho Heaven

Posted in Art, Cities, Culture, Food (Security), Spain on August 27, 2011 | Leave a Comment »

Peppers stuffed with tuna.

One word – pinchos.

Or pinxtos if you prefer the native Basque tongue of San Sebastian, the most famous city in Northern Spain.  Located in the heart of the Basque region, San Sebastian is a tourism hot spot.  With beautiful beaches, gorgeous architecture, and some of the best cuisine in the world, a stop here is a no-brainer.

No-brainers are my specialty.

So is bar hopping among the many pincho taverns packed into the narrow cobblestone streets of the old town.  With unassuming exteriors the only clue to the gastronomic wonderland that awaits inside, is the beautiful people spilling out into the streets with a glass of beer in hand a small tasty looking treat in the other.

San Sebastian

Pinchos (literally thorn or spike) are what most foreigners think of when they say Spanish tapas.  However a typical spanish tapa is more likely to be some greasy anchovies that sit under a cloudy plastic cover at your average corner bar.

Pinchos are heaven.

Typically these delicious concoctions consist of small slices of bread upon which an ingredient or mixture of ingredients is placed and fastened with a toothpick (hence pincho).   Almost any ingredient can be put on the bread, but those most commonly featured in San Sebastian are fish such as hake, cod, anchovy; tortilla de patatas; stuffed peppers; and croquettes.

Fancier...

Set up along the bars for self-service, the toothpick also serves as an accounting tally – in order to determine how much you owe at the end of your meal you simply count the remaining toothpicks on your plate.  However please note that this policy is not universal and could therefore lead to some embarrassing cross-cultural incidents (as you walk away from the bar with a loaded plate…).

Lesson learned – always check with the bartender about whether to pay up front or after consumption.

While pinchos originated in Basque country their popularity means that you can find them in most tourist centres around Spain – however for the real deal you need to head North.  In San Seb you can find a range of pinchos from your cheap greasy variety to a highly sophisticated selection that are so pretty that you won’t want to eat them.

But then you will.

Presentation is everything.

At the heart of pincho culture is a strong social element, fueled by the omnipresent social elixir, alcohol.  Typically accompanied by a small glass of txikito (rosé wine), or beer, patrons stand around the bar gorging on what could pass for pure eye candy but is in fact edible.

Have I mentioned how much I love food?

And just in case you manage to make it out of the pincho bars (we barely did), you can lounge on the beautiful horseshoe beach, surf at the neighbouring beach, hike up to see the Jesus statue, or check out some of the famous sculptures around town by Basque artist and hero Eduardo Chillida.

And then return to eat more pinchos.

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“I’m With The Bull”

Posted in Culture, Food (Security), Recreation, Spain, Spanish on August 8, 2011 | Leave a Comment »

Not a fair fight

It just didn’t seem like a fair fight.

One baby bull, a cheering crowd, and 2000 drunk Australians taunting the poor thing as it frantically made its way around the arena searching in vain for a quick exit.  One morning at el encierro (literally “the lock-up”) and my perception of San Fermin is somewhat tainted.

But I digress.

You’ve probably heard of the Running of the Bulls, yet another world-famous Spanish fiesta whose origins remain unclear.  While the official name of the festival is San Fermin (in honour of the local Christian martyr… yawn), the thrust of the festival is a practice that involves running in front of approximately six bulls that have been let loose on a sectioned-off course of the town’s streets.

Sounds silly/dangerous, no?

Working for the man...

It is.  Many people have died running and frankly I would not have gone if it had not been for Busabout.  Once upon a time, many moons ago, I worked as a tour guide in Europe for this fine little company.  As it turns out, one of my closest guide friends who I trained with, is now the Operations Manager, which led to an invitation to come and help out at the festival in exchange for free transport and accommodation.  A nostalgic trip down memory lane with a free Spanish festival to boot…

Done.

Thus I learned that the original purpose of the Running of the Bulls was to transport the animals from the off-site corrals to the bullring, where they would be killed in the evening (lucky ducks!).  During the early 14th century men would attempt to speed up the process by hurrying their cattle by running alongside them and goading the (poor) bulls.  Over the years it slowly began to turn into a competition, as young men would attempt to race in front of the bulls and make it safely to their pens without being overtaken.

The most famous Running of the Bulls takes place in Pamplona, Spain, but these days the event is dominated by drunk Australians keen on proving their masculinity alongside the occasional female runner.  This was not my favourite part of the festival.

Little drummer boy

Rather, the spirit of the community thoroughly impressed me, perhaps best embodied in over 1,000,000 people dressed in matching white pants and shirts, with red sashes and red scarves, wandering around the city.  Really you look ridiculous if you don’t dress up.  Of course for those who choose to participate in the opening ceremony, the bright white soon transforms into a sticky, neon pink.

What’s that you say?

Well, the opening ceremony can best be described as a massive orgy of sangria and champagne located in a sticky, crowded mosh pit while the sun beats down on the participants and the requisite Spanish fireworks explode overhead.  You see, from early morning until dawn, revelers spray sangria on everyone within sight, creating a chaotic and messy experience.

All of which is a reminder that alcohol is insanely cheap in Spain – why else would someone be willing to dump a litre and a half of it down someone’s head?

Runners arrive in the ring...

Every morning at 8am the actual bull run takes place, on the same set route that has been used for centuries.  Runners and spectators arrive early and hungover to line the street barricades, and secure the premium spots for entering the encierro.  The run ends at the Plaza de Toros (bullring) where runners stream in, breathlessly checking over their shoulders for their four-legged accompaniments.

But it doesn’t end there.

Having opted for the bullring and their live televised screens, rather than fighting the crowds for a glimpse of the run, we had no idea that the arrival of the runners and the six large bulls was just the beginning.  As we quickly learned, the adrenaline-pumped runners stick around in the plaza as a total of six baby bulls are released, one at a time, to the mercy of the crowds.

That’s right, one poor bull has to go back out and ‘fight’ the (mostly) men who have made their way into the ring.

Hot and fresh churros!

While one might assume that the bull would have the upper hand, in fact I sympathized for the bull, whose horns are wrapped in fabric rendering him less dangerous than usual.  Bolstered by this detail, the ratio of humans to bull, and potentially alcohol (though officially it is disallowed to be drunk and run), the poor bull was essentially tortured by the ego-inflated masses.

It made me sad.

Thus eventually we left the bullring in pursuit of a popular local churreria whose fresh churros date back centuries and therefore inspires a line-up around the block.  They didn’t disappoint.

And like all Spanish festivals, the bulls are just one element, with food carts all over the city, musicians, wandering giants and more.  Plenty to keep you occupied if you’re not into animal cruelty.

The churros alone kept me happy.

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The Other West Coast

Posted in Culture, Food (Security), Indigenous People, Sustainability Planning, Sweden on July 25, 2011 | Leave a Comment »

This is how Swedish people talk to animals.

Despite the abundance of international stereotypes concerning Swedish culture (blonde supermodels, pickled herring, superior design skills), I had more than one conversation with a Swedish person desperately concerned that s/he lacked a distinct culture and identity in the face of American influence.

Which (ironically) defines the Canadian identity.

Perhaps Swedes should really be concerned about being Canadian, as I felt very at home the entire time I was in the country.

However in the face of this general angst, here are some interesting elements of Swedish culture that are keeping it distinct from the rest of the world:

  • Midnight sun.  Despite the fact that in Northern Canada there is close to 24 hours of sunlight during the summer, I have never experienced it having spent most of my time in urban Canada.  However Sweden’s urban centres do, therefore the amount of light in Gothenburg was truly mind-boggling.  Sun + Midnight = Weird.

Swedish countryside...

  • Suburbs.  The connotation of suburbs in Sweden refers to low-income areas outside the city typically dominated by ethnic minorities and/or immigrants.  So, the opposite of North American suburbs thanks to “white flight”.  Perhaps just a language thing, but confusing none the less given that Swedish people speak excellent English.  In fact, perhaps even better than many Canadians.

The Simonsson clan (excellent English speakers).

  • Gender Roles.  Yes, my favourite subject, but also a pleasure to speak about in Sweden.  I consistently encountered men so grounded in their sexual identity (and otherwise) that I liked almost everyone I met (a rare feat)!  In fact, it was my male friends that kept raising feminist arguments as we sipped on our expensive beers.  Speaking of beer…

Swedish women are surprisingly strong.

Swedish men have, err, other talents.

  • Social Policies. Which can pretty much be summed up with expensive alcohol (ahem… I was a social policy planner so I have a pretty good grasp of these things).  Being the socially progressive paradise that they are, they have rejected the ridiculously cheap alcohol that characterizes southern Europe in favour of government-regulated prices.  Sort of like Canada.  The result = social harmony.

Gothenburg seawall for beer sipping.

  • Food.  Okay, this is where we seriously differ.  Not only do the Swedes spread caviar on their toast for breakfast every morning (and trust me, this is no luxury item!), they also have taken what was formerly known as cheese, combined it with every known flavour imaginable, and put it in a tube.  Something I would like to credit to the Americans but can’t.  Ugh.

Baconcheese.

  •  Community.  In line with all things socially progressive, the Swedish government also supports any group who puts forward an application to start a ‘club’, thereby encouraging the arts, music, sports, gardening etc.  For example, you want to start a band, you need rehearsal space and some instruments, you demonstrate to the government that you’re serious and BAM!, you have funds.  A-mazing and unique to Sweden as far as I know.

Even the lettuce looks better in Sweden.

So yes Sweden, you have a culture.  Let’s just hope there are not too many Swedes interested in starting clubs to expand their tube cheese varieties…

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Midsommar

Posted in Culture, Food (Security), Indigenous People, Recreation, Sweden on July 13, 2011 | 1 Comment »

Team Sweden

Swedish people are like Canadians, only more attractive.

Friendly, socially progressive, globally-minded, friends of the great outdoors, almost fluent in English, I have nothing but good things to say about them.

So of course when Karin Simonsson (of travelling with me in Colombia fame) invited me to come visit her in her native Gothenburg, the answer was a resounding ¨heck yes!¨  Assuring me that June was nothing but midnight sunshine and flowers, we made plans to have our visit coincide with the annual Swedish Midsommar celebration.

Yes, that means midsummer.

The Swedish celebration for summer solstice, one might be led to believe that indeed there would be sunshine and flowers.  Ha.  North is north my friends and despite trying our best to dance the season in, we were thwarted by cold winds and wet skies.

Mother Nature = 1, 1500 year-old Swedish Tradition = 0.

The pole - upright and penetrating.

Yet the rain did little to dampen our spirits (ha… get it?).

Celebrated throughout Scandinavia, Midsommar is the most important day of the year after Christmas.  Key elements include raising and dancing around a maypole (majstång or midsommarstång), listening to traditional music, and if your hipster sensibilities are high, wearing traditional folk costumes as you dance around said pole singing silly songs.  In addition, many wear crowns made of wildflowers on their heads (including myself).

Because no holiday is complete without sexual allusions, some say that the Midsummer pole was a phallic fertility symbol meant to impregnate the earth.  The connection to fertility is linked to the suspicious increase of births in March… what better way to use the longest day of the year?

This is obviously the explanation I choose to believe.

Similarly, an old Swedish tradition instructs young maids (err, the unwed) to pick seven different kinds of flowers before bedtime midsummer’s eve, and then sleep with the flowers under their pillows.   This leads to dreams about the boys (or girls?) they will get married to.

It’s Swedish science, don’t argue.

Yep, we had our own live Swedish hipster band!

Food also features prominently in the celebrations as the year’s first potatoes are consumed, complemented by pickled herring (yep), sour cream and chives.  For dessert there are strawberries (and cream!) galore, all topped off by plenty of local beer and a god-awful liquor called aquavit that stings the back of your throat as your friends force you to drink it.

What can I say, I loved all of it.

Especially our modern twist of heading to the lake at 1am to go swimming followed by cramming 40 (beautiful) Swedes (and 2 Canadians) into a packed sauna.

Essentially Midsommar is a hipsters paradise, and luckily Gothenburg has more than their fair share of the demographic to celebrate it.

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While Midsommar might have stolen my heart, there are oh-so-many more Swedish shenanigans to follow – stay tuned!

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“That’s Amore…”

Posted in Culture, Density, Food (Security), Indigenous People, Italy, Sustainability Planning on June 18, 2011 | 5 Comments »

It's a little bit messy...

“When, the, moon hits your eye, like a big pizza pie, that’s amoreeeeee.”

I love food.

Tasting the diverse culinary offerings within Europe is one of the best parts of travelling, and sometimes it feels like I’m doing the food tour of Europe.  Which is educational, delicious and slimming.

Okay, that last one is a lie.

Anyhoo, when my good Italian (and recently Canadian) friend Babs (aka Barbara Lelj), invited us to come and visit in her native Napoli, it was a resounding YES PLEASE!  Home of the pizza, and centuries of Italian nonnas stomping tomatoes with their feet in order to ensure the freshness of their pasta sauce, it was the right thing to do.

The only thing that could make it better?

White waters

Taking the ferry over to the famous isle of Capri, home to celebrity vacations, crystal clear blue waters and posh hotels, to indulge in some of their local epicurean specialties.  Fresh tangy olive oil, limoncello made from obese yellow lemons, and of course most of you will be familiar with the internationally renowned Caprese salad.  A simple dish made of sliced creamy buffalo mozzarella, bursting ripe red tomatoes, garden-fresh basil, and seasoned with salt, pepper, and olive oil, this world-famous starter originated in Capri.  Hence Caprese

Did I mention that Babs’ family has a villa in Capri?  Because they do.

Thus we spent a wonderful week with Babs and her adorable children who tutored us in the art of eating gelato (see more pictures below).  Julia is two and a half and Geoffrey is six months, and they are both incontestably adorable.  And fans of Italian food (well, mostly Julia).

Which got me thinking, why is it that Italians are so good at growing food?!

Those are real local lemons. Size matters.

Capri is a dense little island built along sheer rock cliffs whose steep, curvy roads inspire fear every time you take the tiny buses that wind their way up the mountain at neck-breaking speeds.  Yet everywhere you look there are fruit trees, micro-vineyards, produce gardens and herbs growing.  Edible art, that not only provides local food security but ensures high-quality deliciousness for visitors like myself.

No patch of land was too small to grow something, and in addition to providing food, it creates a beautiful patchwork of green spaces across the island.

In North American urban centres there are growing food movements encouraging people to turn their ornamental lawns into productive food gardens, something the Italians have been doing for centuries.  The solution to this mess?  More municipal staff field trips to Italy.  Obviously.

Julia and I highly recommend the local gelato.

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Le Café

Posted in Cities, Culture, Food (Security), France, New Urbanism, Public Spaces, Sustainability Planning on June 17, 2011 | 1 Comment »

A tower...

Vancouver has a dearth of good patio spaces.

On any given sunny day, the beautiful people flock to the limited choice locations scattered around the city, willing to stand in line for over an hour in order to secure a small spot of real estate with a glint of sun.

Unfortunately the City is notoriously strict when it comes to regulating outdoor café space, to say nothing of the challenge should you want to serve alcohol on said patio.  Most proprietors would have better luck renaming Vancouver “Paris Deux” then accessing one of the coveted Vancouver liquor licenses.

Which makes for some grumpy Vancouverites.

Travelling in Europe confirms my long-held suspicion that this is ridiculous.

From Paris to Madrid to Rome, cafés sprawl over the smallest of sidewalks, creating wonderful outdoor environments where people casually sip their alcoholic drinks with little risk to public health and safety.  And they’ve been doing it for years.

In fact, filling the sidewalks with small tables and chairs creates wonderful street environments, promotes pedestrian-oriented culture, and increases potential for gossip and therefore happiness.  It’s a simple formula really: cafés = happiness.

Enjoying a patio in Paris with Ms. Sunderland

Of course a Mediterranean climate makes outdoor patios a little easier, but that doesn’t stop Oslo, Copenhagen or Amsterdam from maintaining vibrant café cultures throughout the year.

So what’s the problem back in North America?  Vancouver is one of the few cities in Canada that is capable of maintaining outdoor patios all year-long (with the help of a few climate-friendly heaters)!

So please Vancouver, a small request to make my North American transition a little easier – let’s get creative with patio spaces around the city so that I can have a small piece of Paris when I return.

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Je T’aime, Paris

Posted in Architecture, Art, Cities, Culture, Food (Security), France, Public Transportation on June 7, 2011 | 2 Comments »

Sacré Coeur

Paris has a certain… ‘je ne sais quoi.’

The subject of countless novels, the setting for romantic films, Carrie’s Shangri-la in Sex and the City (and NYC’s rival), Paris has an undeniable romantic appeal.

Not to mention delicious pastries, stylish locals, and wonderful streetscapes.

Yet there are some who yawn and roll their eyes at the mention of Paris, alluding to an overhyped city that doesn’t live up to expectations. Which is silly.

The following are my top ten reasons that Paris is still “all that.”

  1. Croissants. This may be reason enough to visit Paris, as despite my extensive international search, I have yet to find a worthy competitor. Flaky, buttery layers of crisp pastry with a soft warm centre – breakfast as God intended.
  1. Neighbourhoods. A massive city of almost 12 million people, Paris might be overwhelming if not for the charm and unique character of the many distinct neighbourhoods. From the grandeur of Champs Elysées to the eccentric bookstores of the Latin Quarter, everyone can design their own Amelie story. Except for in Montmartre which is completely overrun with tourists trying to recreate Amelie.

Jardin Luxembourg

  1. Walking. Filled with wide boulevards and winding cobblestone streets, Paris is a pedestrian’s dream. Losing yourself in a new neighbourhood, browsing among small boutiques and wandering into intriguing alleyways, almost guarantees a charming photo shoot in the form of ivy-covered mansion from the turn of the century. Check.
  1. Metro. That being said, it’s a big city and sometimes you just need to rest those swollen feet. Cue the comprehensive, relatively inexpensive (10 tickets for 12 Euros), and efficient metro system. Two Americans overheard in Jardin Luxembourg: “It’s going to be horrible to return to Milwaukee (…) where there isn’t any good public transportation.” Yes, yes it is.

The famous Metro font

  1. Art. So. Much Art. It is virtually impossible to wander around Paris and not stumble upon one of the world’s best collections of [insert obscenely famous artist here]. Better yet, if you’re an EU citizen and under 25, it’s all free! Which sadly, I never was. But still!
  1. Eclairs. “But Dara, you already mentioned croissants!” I know, I know I did. But to be honest, I could easily fill this top ten with an assortment of mouth-watering French pastries available on almost every corner (are eclairs also a breakfast food?). Wandering into the hundreds of patisseries and speciality chocolate shops that dot the city is like being, well, a kid in a candy shop… except that I’m 31. Which begs the question, how are French women so skinny?! Jerks.

I know, this is not an eclair... but still delicious.

  1. Hipsters. Wandering around Le Marais was like being on the set of a million simultaneous album-cover photo shoots. Exquisitely mismatched French haute couture labels, accessorized with the requisite casual scarf and leather tote bag, made for some fabulous people watching. Just fabulous.
  1. Architecture. Not into new fashion? Why not drool over the gorgeous old buildings that line the streets! From the gothic architectural stylings of Notre Dame to the Romanesque and Byzantine influenced Sacré-Coeur, Paris is dripping in architectural history. Sipping a cafe across from one of the many turn-of-the-century mansions reminds one of just how ‘petit’ (and poor) we all are.

Le Louvre

  1. Museums. Art aside, why not pick out one of the more obscure museums to spend a few hours in one afternoon? Beyond the traditional masters, Paris houses a collection that ranges from perfume to police museums. My recommendation? The Manufacture des Gobelins, a tapestry museum that traces the history weaving in France and features rotating exhibits. Also an excellent opportunity to practice your French as there are no tours in English. Magnifique!
  1. Picnics. What better way to while away the afternoon than in one of the many beautiful Parisian parks with a spread of cheese, tomato and baguette? While Parisians are not big on grass sitting (it is typically ‘interdit’ and they will let you know!), there are plenty of chairs and benches available, and some coveted green spaces if you are determined to find ‘pelouse.’ Extra points if you sport a beret. Just kidding, don’t do that.

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Paris is fantastic, and despite having visited many times, its charm has yet to wear thin for me.

It’s probably the croissants.

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Wizards, Magic Carpets, and Snake Charmers… Oh My!

Posted in Cities, Culture, Food (Security), Indigenous People, Public Spaces on February 14, 2011 | 3 Comments »

Bowls in the Souk

Last week I was in Morocco… NBD.  Just hanging in Northern Africa while a couple of revolutions took place next door.  I don’t want to claim direct responsibility for Muburak’s *ahem “resignation”, but I’m certain my status updates from Marrakesh were somehow connected to the whole ‘youth/social networking/changing the world’ thing.

More importantly, Marrakesh was essentially a return to Harry Potter World – AMAZING!

Wandering around the medina (old city), one can’t help but bump into wizards (men dressed in local djellaba, a long hooded cape), become entranced by magic potion (antique) bottles, and take note of the abundance of live snails for sale.  All while stepping carefully around hissing cobras whose questionable docility is credited to the dubious skills of a local flute player.

If that doesn’t scream Hogsmeade, what does?!

Wizards abound...

First established almost 1000 years ago, Marrakesh has been reinvented many times over the years.  From Almoravid engineering to the Marinids Royal influence, it was those crazy hippies and spiritual nomads of the 60′s and 70′s that acted as the catalyst for the Marrakesh that we know today.

Famous visitors such as the Beatles and Yves St. Laurent launched the demand for upscale accommodation and in the 1990′s private homes began to be converted to B&B’s while at the same time budget airlines started making it ridiculously cheap and easy to arrive at their doorstep.

In 2007 the City invested US$2 billion in tourism infrastructure… and the rest is history.  The city now boasts a population of over 1.5 million, half of whom appear to be white tourists wandering around with a slightly lost look in their eyes, unable to find their riad.

Riad Terrace

Famed for their unparalleled hospitality and service, staying in a riad is an integral part of the Morocco experience.  A traditional housing style built around an interior courtyard or garden, riads are inward focused and often unassuming from the exterior, designed for family privacy and protection from the weather.  Many riads have now been converted to small, intimate bed and breakfasts.

Riad Adriana did not disappoint – from daily breakfast on the rooftop terrace with freshly squeezed orange juice, to charming Moroccan furnishings throughout the hallways and a private gourmet dinner in the salon, if felt as though we’d stumbled into an Arabic fairytale.

Dinner in the Djemaa el Fna

The magic continued in Djemaa el Fna, an interesting example of public space for the urbanists out there.  The main public square in Marrakesh, located in the heart of the medina, this is no European “plaza”.  Typically referred to as “the place”, it acts as a wayfinder, and young local boys are only too eager to guide you to the square should you find yourself lost in the labyrinth of derbs (alleyways) that surround the square.

Brimming with people, the square overflows with orange juice stands, turbaned snake charmers, cross-dressing belly dancers, delicious smelling food stalls, and aggressive Moroccan women who will stop at little in an attempt to attack you with their henna syringes (JFL experienced the brunt of this trick and now has a “poop” stain on her hand for the next week).

Ringed by rooftop cafes, it is highly advised to sip on a mint tea (“Berber whiskey”), while watching the open-air theatre that takes place below.

"Charmed, I'm sure."

With little infrastructure to offer, the square is perhaps most popular because of its lack of regulations.  I can only imagine trying to obtain a permit at Vancouver City Hall in order to perform an open-air snake charming act… riiiight.  And we all know it was like pulling teeth to open a few food carts in Vancouver… one might safely assume that the local food stalls do not have to adhere to the same stringency of health regulations as they do in Canada.

Potential food poisoning aside, what vibrancy!

So, what is the take-away for us planner types?  No rules?  Surely no… rules are why planners exist!  However, striking that balance between well planned and organic spaces is tricky… let us not forget that not everything can be regulated, and that to create truly magical spaces, one needs only to create a space (blank canvas) for others to fill in.

Just watch out for the cobras.

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A Guide to Mealtimes in Spain

Posted in Culture, Food (Security), Spain, Valencia on January 30, 2011 | 4 Comments »

In Spain you have 5 meals a day.  As a staunch supporter of both food and eating, two additional mealtimes were a pleasant surprise, however the schedule is another matter.

Spaniards eat for 17 hours a day… which means that meals run LATE into the night.  Seriously late.  They start around 7am and stop around midnight.  Let me break it down.

  • MEAL #1: Desayuna @ 7am (Breakfast)

- Normal enough, if not a little light… typically a coffee, pastry and maybe a juice.

Healthy breakfast...

  • MEAL #2: Almuerzo @ 10:30am(ish) (Snack)

- 10:30am?  Time for a break!  Typically a half-sandwich, coffee, and maybe a juice (I do live in Valencia, home of the mighty orange).

  • MEAL #3: Comida @ 2pm (Lunch)

- This is the big one – a hot meal, prepared at home and shared with family when possible.  In fact, the magnitude of the meal often requires a siesta afterward, which is why practically EVERYTHING closes in Spain between 2pm and 4pm.  Good ol’ siesta…

Paella - typical lunch in Valencia.

  • MEAL #4: Merienda @ 6:30pm(ish) (Light Meal/Snack)

- Well, at this point it’s been a few hours, so you probably need a snack again.  Typically a pastry, or a cookie, or a piece of fruit, to ensure you don’t go hungry before the final meal of the day.

  • MEAL #5: Cena @ 10pm (Dinner)

- Ahhh, time for dinner in Spain, typically a full meal of salad/meat/pasta etc.  10pm… what better time for DINNER!!  I kid of course.  10pm is a ridiculous time to eat.  Unfortunately it is extremely difficult to find a restaurant that will serve you before 9pm, and if you show up at 9pm half-starved, it’s likely you’ll be the only ones in the restaurant.

One might ask, given the mealtimes I’ve just laid out, what time do children eat?  Surely they’re not eating dinner at 10pm as well?

In fact, they do eat at the exact same times as adults, and it is not uncommon to see babies/toddlers/other mini-humans settling down alongside their parents well past their bedtime.  Obviously both meal times and bedtimes are cultural constructions, but let’s agree that the Spaniards are craa-zey (small judgment).

"Imma gonna eat at 10pm!"

On special occasions, such as Christmas or New Years Eve, families tend to eat at midnight.  MIDNIGHT.  I realize I may be abusing my writer’s privilege with the generous use of capitals, but come on, that’s just silly.  While I applaud the quantity of food, having a large meal right before you sleep, with little time to digest, just doesn’t make sense.

Also I get tired.

Yet again, I have no idea how this country functions… but have I mentioned the jamón?

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