We are back in Europe (Aunt Ilana and I). This time, again, we bring you our impressions of being back in the old continent.

As we did last time, the Aunt Clara...

Platanos and yuca are available in Spain - here's the evidence:


Not evidence that would stand up in court, mind you, but take my word for it - this was taken in a supermarket in southern Spain yesterday.

Yuca and platano - which is also what bananas are called in Spain - so these are distinguished from their smaller sweeter cousins by the description 'platano grande de freir'.

The fact that they are placed amidst the exotic fruit like pineapple and mango makes me wonder if any banana loving customer who didn't read the small print has ever taken one home and tried to peel it and eat it raw.

We´ve been in Barcelona since yesterday for the last leg of our European Tour. Good culinary tourists that we are we headed for the market on the ramblas. Fantastic! A food lover´s paradise. From "exotic" criadillas and sesos to fruits and nuts from the world over, plus a dizzying selection of Spanish cheese and cold cuts.

Since most sellers are more than willing to let you try (and smell) their fares I took advantage of that and tried as much as I could, which included - horror of horrors - a good Jamòn Ibèrico. I don´t feel like I broke any rules, as my hosts said "jamòn no es carne".


And yes, there were plantains and yuca. As a matter of fact there was casabe from Santiago Rodriguez.

"Jamon no es carne", provided it is parma or serrano, has been my motto for several years now.

Well, for those keeping in touch, I am back in the Dominican Rep. Nothing like home. One would expect that traveling to more sophisticated environs would make us feel sad about returning to our 2/3 of an island with our wacky weather and "original" ways of doing things. And one would be wrong. As much as I enjoy traveling, and as much as it is a nice thing to experience a change of climate and mentality, I am glad that returning home makes me realize, once again, that I am here by choice (something not all of my fellow citizens can say). I like this country, not out of patriotism -- flag-waving doesn't become me -- but because I like many more things about my country than I dislike.

But then again it was good to see our families, on both sides, that live in the old continent. And while they now enjoy the fabulous European summer -- although a bit too hot this year, we will be thumbing our noses at them in a few months.

Anyways, Denmark was lovely, as always. Extremely organized, with fantastic service, friendly people and almost-impossible cleanliness. Food is always good, albeit a bit too fattening, which didn't help much my battle to lose weight. If you ever have the chance, please visit Denmark (in the summer), no way will you ever regret it.

Once again this year we took advantage of the strawberry season and new potatoes season. Danish strawberries are extraordinarily sweet and juicy. Danes normally serve them in cream to which they add sugar. Personally I prefer them plain. My daughter loved them, just like she learnt to love potatoes. New potatoes are a small, very soft, variety of potatoes. The skin is so thin it doesn't need to be peeled and Danes use them to accompany a variety of dishes, mainly the ubiquitous BBQs.

Barcelona was all I thought it would be, and more. Closer to my roots, in more ways than I expected: party, siesta, beer and good food. Sounds like home, huh? Barcelona is enormous, and has the widest sidewalks I've ever seen. There's more space dedicated to pedestrians than to cars, just as it should be. Comfortable, timely and safe public transportation is another plus (forget about driving, no frigging spaces to park anywhere).

The food was a bit more fattening than I expected, but since it is based on seafood and olive oil the good old heart was happy. The markets are all I dreamed of, something I hope I get to see in our country some day. The mixture of aromas and colors is fantastic, and the vendors, friendly and helpful, are willing to let you try their fares. I also found out that there are more varieties of olives than I knew of. And of course, try jamón ibérico, worth breaking our non-meat-eating vows.

Tapas were the highlight of our experience. We started in a neighborhood bar, full of locals, always a good omen. The food was abundant and cheap. Things got "less abundant and cheap" but tasted just as good as we moved to more touristy areas of town. And although not traditional Barcelonan fares we had montaditos vascos and paella valenciana, because darn if we’re going to be in Spain and not try that.