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Thursday, 22 December 2011


So much is going what with Huesca winning 'El Gordo' and all the festivities before during and after I hardly have time to write. People are celebrating right now, even those that haven't won anything and likewise I shall be going out tonight despite the fact I am flying back to Old Blighty tomorrow.

While watching Rick Stein's programme last night which showed how the Spanish celebrate Christmas and how they enjoy food and wine all year round I was reminded why I live here and how accustomed I have become to this way of life. (Christmas in Britain will be an interesting time for me as I pour myself a drink and generally watch the feathers fly). I was surprised Stein didn't mention Turron which I have never liked much but this year two pupils have presented me with the above and both were delicious, the Turron, not the pupils. It seems the supermarket Turron is not as nice as the more expensive type being freshly made at the local cake shop. One of the said delicacies was given to me on a lovely Villeroy and Boch platter and Enate and Lallane wine is still being received with gusto so teacher is very pleased.

On the subject of Stein, he seems what my father would describe as an 'amiable bloke' but there is nothing worse than an Englishman who tries to speak Spanish. Now I know why the Spanish wince when I mess up the vowel sounds. His pronunciation of Aragon and Riojan and many other words was rather toe curling. He clearly adores people, food and wine and his Spanish pals seem to love him too. One lovely young lady referred to something as 'old fashionable' which I think would be a great name for an ale if it doesn't exist already. Looking at the elegant, slim, Spanish folk on this programme I got that dread that when I land in Britain I will have to brace myself for the gargantuan folk in my midst. It always shocks and baffles me as lunch in the UK often consists of going to a chemist's and buying a sandwich, a packet of crisps and an apple that never gets eaten. Or is it because I always forget that many people eat out of buckets and troughs when they get home or simply off their laps?

On the subject of gargantuan and crisps I am reminded also that my sister and her beau have gone beyond 'big boned'. If I had to think of two adjectives off the top of my head to describe them the words beached and famished come up. They refuse to speak to me as last year I told them they couldn't live with our mother and father so this year will be less Pinteresque but one wonders how long they think they can keep this up. I also won't have to sit, fascinated and appalled at them eating a tube of crisps, sneezing on their hands, putting hand back in tube, wiping nose with the back of their hand, repeat the former and then offer me some before wiping hands on trouser leg.

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