So I studied abroad in Spain for 2 summers when I was in high school, and it was magical to say the least. I fell in love with the food, culture, people, and Plaza Mayors:)
The first trip I took was when I was 15, and I felt like I had been reborn, like no matter what I had done in the past (even only 15 yrs) it didnt matter. Whatever my “status” was at that age, how nerdy I was, who made fun of me, what I was or wasnt wearing didnt matter. No one knew me there. Do you here the worlds smallest violin playing for me?!
HA!
The people I met, along with my Spanish family embraced me with open arms, and that was my first true taste of humanity, humility, and the love of a country.
Soooo, you can imagine how excited I was to land in Florida and realize that there were numerous Spanish Tapas restaurants! I have tried them before, even in places like NYC and LA, where they “have everything,” and not one time was I ever really satisfied. Not one time was I transported back to the place where I wanted so badly to be a part of me. Until now!
BAM!
I drove in to Sarasota, home of the #1 beach in America, and went straight to Ceviche, a place that had tapas, or so they claimed….
I arrived at an old peach building 4 stories high, and walked in to a beautiful main dining room that was dark red with ornate spanish tile decor and dark cherry wood seating. I scanned the room as I always do…and then I saw them.
Floating like beautiful ballerinas in the air…..Ham legs. Cured meats of several kind hovering above the bar.
I WAS HOME.
I went to the rooftop deck and proceeded to order a red wine sangria, and a Tortilla Espanola, one of my favorite and more traditional tapas.
This is almost a quiche, with onions and potatoes, and a few other simple ingredients.
When it arrived at my table I was a little taken aback as it was served on a plastic plate, with a plastic fork and knife combo….but i was seated on the outside bar area (not as fancy as the other 3 floors.)
I swallowed my ego for the moment and cut into the simple concoction.
I pulled the light plastic fork toward my mouth and bit down, and then…
I honestly think I had a religious experience.
I was transported right back to the first tapas restaurant I ever walked in to. I remember the white linens so bright in the Spanish sun, and the cold beaded sweat on the glass pitchers sitting on the tables outside.
That is what food should do to you. It should either give you an experience, or take you back to one you have already had and treasure so much.
I will go back to Spain someday, hopefully sooner than later. Until then I know a little place in Sarasota that can take me there without a passport:)
So, lesson learned is dont judge the platter on which it comes….
More to come another day…
