I have decided that I really don't like Spanish food. This opinion may be influenced by the fact that I have been sick to my stomach for a week or so, or that pilgrims subsist mainly on bar food, but I maintain that Spanish cuisine is boring. Tortillas were delightful at first, and I am looking forward to making some at home, but my upteenth slice pushed me over the edge. Baked goods are only tempting-looking. By the time you bite into them, the flavor goes bland. Bocadillos, or sandwiches, are too dry and too crunchy and stingily layered with too-twangy cheeses and cured-to-within-an-inch-of-it's-life ham. French fries are thick and oily. Salads are run-of-the-mill. Even candy doesn't taste like I think it should!
I found myself the other day craving American food. That is a traveling first for me. In all my voyages, I have always enjoyed local eating, but suddenly, all I wanted was mac and cheese from my mother's kitchen. All I wanted was a moist and perfectly sweet cupcake like my old roommate, Kenzie, used to make. All I wanted was something familiar! Something served at a regular time! Something that I could eat with usual gusto!!
All I found were some oreos, but without milk, they crumbled like dust in my mouth.
Exception:
The morning after arriving in Santiago, I had a most fulfilling breakfast. I ordered two fried eggs (no french fries, please) and bacon. And I had some hot chocolate (thick, melted-chocolate-bar style). And it tasted like home. Well, the eggs and bacon did. And I was perfectly happy.
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