The wonders of Spanish cuisine

Ever since we landed in Spain, we have been eating the most incredible food. The most wonderful thing about Christianity, I have always felt, is that they eat absolutely everything. They positively define the word omnivorous – if it lives and breathes, eat it – and if it can be fermented – make an alcoholic drink out of it. And that suits my life values perfectly.

We cut a swath through the plant and animal kingdom, and posted yummy food shots on Facebook to jalao all the people back home. The comments came as expected –

‘You @#@#% - you should be hanged!’

‘You fat @@#$%%, you will gain 20 kilos from this trip alone’

‘I hope you choke on a bone and die you sadistic pig’

‘Screen lick...drool...drool’

For breakfast we had a variety of sausages – pepperoni, sobrasada, big red ones, spicy red ones, and all kinds of  ham, salami, cereals, olive oil flavoured with pimentos and garlic, freshly squeezed orange juice, freshly brewed coffee, and very occasionally – an egg.

‘She who must be obeyed’ would roll up her sleeved and dig into the food with gusto. The waiters looked at her with amazement and admiration as she finished off a huge dish of roast kid lamb, bread with aioli and grilled vegetables and still look around for more. They must have believed that there is a black hole inside her where all that food vanished.

I was my usual conservative self... a few morsels here and there. 

This went on for a week or so, and we came to  Palma de Mallorca – the capital of Majorca.

In the Youth hostel in palma, I saw a new dish on the breakfast menu – ‘Toast and tomato – Mallorquin style’

I was intrigued. What was this exotic dish? I asked her.

‘Ah Senor...this is a typical mallorcan dish. Very rustic..very delicious’

I  was sold. I had very good experiences with rustic dishes till now – suckling pig, and roast veggies and what not.

‘Fantastico! Give me one, por favor’

She went inside and I heard some fiddling in the kitchen. 

I started dreaming of what the dish would be like.

I was thinking of  fresh baked bread...still warm from the oven...swimming in country butter...with maybe a sprig of rosemary or parsley...grilled slices of tomato...with the grilling bringing out the intense country flavour of the tomato...maybe the tomato would be one of those fancy ridged tomatoes, or perhaps those tiny cherry tomatoes....I had seen red, green and purple tomatoes....a few shavings of bacon, some fresh shredded cheese perhaps...fresh squeezed lime....

I was still fantasising about the possibilities when she came back and plonked a dish on the counter.

On it was some dry toast, like the ‘milk toast’ we get in India, a small sachet of Olive oil and .....a tomato. A whole single tomato! 

I looked at it in consternation.  

‘What is this?’

It looked like a delivery from the Kirana wala.

‘Thees ees the deesh senor. Toast and Tomaaato – mallorquin style.’

Apparently, when she  said ‘Toast and Tomato’ she meant literally ‘a toast and a tomato.’

'She who must be obeyed' started howling with laughter. She had played it safe by ordering a Muesli with milk, and now she laughed so hard, the tears from her eyes were diluting the milk. 

The waitress was moved by my downcast expression and hastened to assure me that this is a genuine peasant dish. 

‘I will tell you how they eat it...you pour the olive oil over the toast, and then squeeze the tomato over it. Then you sprinkle salt on it and eat. Ole!’

Must have been for the very diet conscious peasant, or for the one who was too lazy to cook breakfast.

We took our dishes to the rooftop restaurant and sat down to eat. 'She who must be obeyed' immediately started slurping her muesli, while I looked doubtfully at my toast and tomato.

hmm...OK, pour the olive oil...thats easy enough...squeeze the tomato...hmmm

I squeezed it gently.

Nothing happened. 

I squeezed it harder. 

It bulged a bit, but that was all.

I got pissed, and squeezed hard.

SPLAT! 

There was tomato all over the toast, the table and my shirt. 

This set off 'She' into another fit of laughter.

I just looked her with silent dignity, and shook all the tomato off my person and on to to the toast. Then I added the salt. 

'Salut!' I nodded, and 'she' touched my bread with her spoon and we ate the Toast together.

It was delicious!