XOXO

In the majority of Spanish bars, with most cold drinks, you will be given some sort of accompaniment. A few olives, a handful of nuts or a nut mix, a few crisps, maybe some panchitos (generic for cheesy puff, Monster Munch sort of crisp type things that aren't crisps) or even sugary sweets. You won't, generally, get anything with a coffee or tea, except maybe a biscuit. Obviously only the insane drink hot drinks with anything but bakery products. Some bars are more generous than others and some only serve the extras at given times. Something that used to be common, as an accompaniment, but aren't so much nowadays, are altramuces, lupin seeds. 

To digress, as I so often do, as I mentioned frutos secos (the nuts or nut mixes) I remember that they caused me problems when I was teaching English. To me it looked like a direct translation - dried fruits. So I'd go into a long spiel with the students about how the things that had a shell that had to be broken to get to the edible kernel inside - almonds, hazelnuts, peanuts, walnuts and so on - were called nuts in English while things like sultanas, prunes, raisins and the like were dried fruits. I could never understand why Spaniards were so slow to grasp the concept; in fact it was me. The Spaniards recognised the two different words - fruto and fruta - and I didn't. The first is the idea of produce or product and the second is fruit. So they were wondering why I was babbling on about why frutos secos - for nuts and the dry mixes - were different from frutas secas - dried fruit when exactly the same distinction is made in Spanish.

Back at altramuces, lupin seeds; they're shaped like large smarties or the flying saucer shaped M&Ms (and, if you're old enough, the all chocolate Treets of yesteryear). They get called chochos. Now chocho is a word used to describe a part of the body that (at least in the old two sex days) was specific to women. I've heard chichi too. Indeed someone asked Maggie if XOXO at the end of a greeting in a birthday card spelled chocho - I suppose the suggestion was that it was some sort of sex code. I quite like them, the plant seed snack that is. Spaniards generally separate the outer skin from the inner kernel. I can't be bothered and usually eat the whole lot. They're salty and a bit slimy. You can buy them in supermarkets in jars usually, stored in brine. They can be cooked but usually they're eaten cold alongside a drink as an aperitivo. Unlike edamame beans they are not, at all, trendy.

At table

One of the people I talk Spanish to, online, asked me about how the bar bill is settled in the UK. I'm sure that, if you live in Spain, you've witnessed the scene where people, men, fight to pay the bill. Let's presume two traditional couples. Someone asks for the bill. When it arrives the two males lock horns, like a couple of fighting rams, each is determined to pay. Both wave a largish note (or a credit card) at the waiter/waitress who smiles on benevolently until someone triumphs. I had no idea what the answer was to the question. If someone else wants to pay my bar bill I cede gracefully. By way of answer I told my conversational partner that, because we tend to order drinks in rounds and pay as we order, the same situation doesn't usually arise.

Well, what about when you go to a restaurant who pays then?, asked my interlocutor. Again, if anyone ever offers to pay for my food I say thank you, so I had to invent the answer. I said that, generally, we knew when someone had invited us to a restaurant and that meant they were going to pay. It would be different if we simply happened to eat with someone because we were out together at mealtime. Then the bill would be divvied up with a bit thrown in for a communal tip. Only people you never want to eat with again do that thing where they start dribbling on about how you had three glasses of wine while they only had water at bill reckoning time. I was cogitating now. I explained that there may be an ulterior motive for picking up the tab; a business deal or the possibility of underwear removal for instance. In fact, given such circumstances, if someone started to renegotiate the unspoken deal - no let's go halves -  that would be a sure sign that the hoped for deal was off.

I also said that the idea of inviting someone out to eat, in the UK, was almost exclusively an evening affair and that the invitation to dine at someone's house was much more common in the UK than here in Spain. Of course, as it's ages since I've socialised in the UK and as I hardly ever socialise with Spaniards I could be plain wrong or out of date on all my answers.

It did set me thinking though about some other eating and drinking things that were usually different here in Spain. We'll ignore breakfast for the moment. British and Spanish breakfasts are so different, and so individually different, that I'll leave them aside this time.

I suppose the biggest difference is that, if you go out to eat with friends in Spain it is much more likely that you will eat at lunchtime than in the evening. It's not a crime to eat out in the evening or anything but it's not the norm.

The chances of eating, in Spain, without bread on the table are minimal. A Spanish pal who went on holiday to Shropshire confounded a number of waiters and waitresses by asking for bread. He told me he got to quite like the plates of Mother's Pride which were the best that most places, unused to serving bread with the meal, could manage. He also wondered why they brought butter. And what do we say about the sort of Spanish establishment that charges for the bread. Well, obviously, we won't be going back there.

In lots of restaurants, particularly in the warmer bits of Spain, there is a sort of generosity that sometimes surprises visitors. A basic sort of salad will be placed on the table unasked for, free and sometimes unadvertised. Nice as that is most visitors are even more shocked that, having asked for a glass of wine, the bottle is left behind on the table on a help yourself basis. Visitors suppose it will be charged by the glass. It isn't of course. Beware of anyone who asks for the cork and takes home the half empty bottle. They will never understand Spain. 

I've been told that Spaniards were always admonished in their youth to keep at least one hand on the table when they're not eating. My mum used to do the same with me about not eating off my knife and not spooning up peas with my fork. I've also heard that it's considered bad form to put you elbows on the table. You will see both "rules" broken all the time though. Whilst we're on manners, going back to bread, it's not high end good manners, but it's not unacceptable, to use bread to push food onto your fork

Only foreigners will think to order a starter for themselves in the belief that the person next to them will do the same. Usually the people around the table decide on a few starters which will go in the middle of the table so everyone can take what they want, bounded only by good manners. There is a phrase in Spanish used to describe the shame of taking the last potato or prawn or croqueta or whatever. It's not uncommon to see one item left behind on each plate. Sometimes the main course will also be placed centrally on the table and you may eat directly from there. Paella rice, for instance, is often eaten directly from the big paella pan in the centre of the table. Obviously this doesn't apply the the menú del día where you get something for you and I get something for me.

If you're in a restaurant there will be napkins or serviettes but it would be very unusual for a Spaniard to eat anything without a napkin or something similar to hand at home or in a bar. 

Cutlery, in posh restaurants, is taken away with the various courses but in ordinary sort of eateries you will be expected to hang on to your cutlery for the next course. The plates go but the knife and fork stay. United Statesians are always surprised that there's none of that thing they do of moving the fork to the other hand after cutting the meat but then we Brits think that's a bit odd anyway.

You drink cold drinks with food. Water (often for everyone), Fanta, Coca Cola (it's not Coke in Spain) beer, wine etc. are all fine. If you ask for a coffee to drink alongside your food the waiter will presume that you are ordering for after the meal. One Spaniard once told me that she thought it was dangerous to drink hot drinks with hot food. I think she meant it. It reminded me of the way in which lots of Spanish parents still warn their children not to go swimming too soon after eating because of the potentially dire consequences of stomach cramps and a watery end. Coffee and tea are for after you've eaten. It's bad luck, serious bad luck, to toast with water.

¡Que aproveche!

Sitting pretty

When I'm out, by myself, and I fancy a coffee, or a beer, I usually sit at the bar. That way I don't block up a table. It also saves the faff of the wait for whatever I've ordered to be delivered, asking to pay, waiting to pay and waiting for the change. Besides which there's usually something happening at the bar, something to watch or even to comment on. The bar is a public, not a private, space.

It's not comfy though and it's not good if you have lots of bags. Better then to use a table. If I'm going to sit at a table I usually order at the bar and then go and sit down.  I realise that's not the key principle of table service but it's both faster and more definite.

Maggie and I went down to Granada for Christmas. We were sitting at the bar in the hotel because there were no tables left. The bar stool was a bit rocky and my bottom overhung a lot. The innards of the stool were also palpably recognisable to my buttocks. A couple of youngsters were tormenting the automatic doors but it was a busy hotel anyway and the cold night air assaulted our position every few seconds. It was not a comfortable experience. I was reminded.

Years ago we were house hunting in Caravaca de la Cruz one February. I'd been a bit ill and I was hardly on top form. It was cold and damp outside and I remember wearing my overcoat and gloves as I perched on a wooden bar stool. The floor of the bar was as damp as the pavements outside and the street door was open. To all intents and purposes I was outside despite being inside. It was miserable.

Nowadays, in winter, most Spanish bars are reasonably well heated but there is not a lot of thought in the interior design. It's all a bit industrial. I can't remember the last time I sat on a sofa or even on a padded chair in a bar. Wood and plastic. Now I'm sure if I thought hard about it I could prove myself wrong but even when we visit places where there are traffic jams, and credit card payments are the norm, most bars are still pretty basic.

Thinly spread

I have been trying to think of a post for a few days and I couldn't. The rest is just space filler.

My bosses at work asked me if I could design a course for people working in "hosteleria" and I said of course. I nearly always say of course unless they ask me if I want to work with biting and dancing on the table aged children. I knew exactly what they meant with hosteleria, waiters and bar staff and suchlike. I see that the dictionary definition says hotel trade. It's quite odd how much difference there is at times between what Spanish people say and what books and dictionaries and text books say they say.

The book I'm currently reading is Los ritos del agua. As I read any book, particularly if it's in Spanish, I have to look up a fair few words. One of the great advantages of reading on an electronic book is that it has a built in dictionary so I can find key words without interrupting the flow too much. Anyway I came across a word, vahído, which the dictionary says means blackout or funny turn. I could see a use for that word given my personal history so I tried to remember it. I've been here a while now though and I know that it's wise to check with a few Spaniards whether a word is in everyday use before I try to use it in an everyday way. Lots of words are dictionary correct but hardly ever get an outing. Over the years I've struggled to learn several words that I thought would be dead useful - imbornal, escotilla, injerencias and ciclotímico spring to mind - only to find that they are double Dutch to most Spanish people. Nobody seems to use vahído.

Anyway, back to waiters and an English language course. So I asked my bosses if they could find a suitable book for me to lean on whilst I set about doing the basic course outline. As I trawled the Internet I was surprised how much stuff I found, in English, particularly worksheets and vocabulary lists, that I would disagree with. I know it's "better", at least it was better when I was at school in the 1950s and 1960s, to say "May I go to the toilet?" or "May I have more bread, please?" than to say "Can or Could I" but I think it's disservice to teach people "May I" in the 21st Century.

Then I got around to some of the things I would tell the Spanish food and drink people about the sort of things that I thought Britons living in or visiting Pinoso would like to see. One of the first was maybe to use British instead of English. Now I know that Scots like to be Scottish and the Welsh like to be Welsh but I think it may be asking a bit too much to expect a Spanish server to spot the difference between a Maesteg and a Renfrew accent.

Then I thought about information. About how we Britons tend to like things written down. Menus with prices, lists of snacks and the varieties of sandwich. Opening hours and a sample menu, to gauge the price as well as the range, outside the door. Things like that.

Next up were some of the things we do that are a bit out of the ordinary for Spaniards. Butter on bread and nowadays oil too, vinegar on chips, pepper alongside the salt. Drinking hot drinks like tea and coffee with hot food. Not thinking of vegetarianism or even veganism as something odd. Liking your food to be your food rather than having, for instance, communal starters in the middle of the table.

And I wondered about the confusion at times over simple words like eat and drink. Comer is Spanish for to eat but it also means to lunch. Ages ago, when we lived in Ciudad Rodrigo I often used to be in a bar, between classes, at around 4pm in the afternoon. Maybe a little late for lunch in a small Spanish town. It was common for a Briton, or a French person, to approach the bar and ask one of the waiters who looked after the tables in the street, on the terrace, if there was anything to "comer". The servers would say no and turn them away but I knew that inside there were lots of cold foods, tapas, sandwiches and the like that were just what the travellers were hoping for "to fill a gap." A simple misunderstanding. And we understand drink too. "Do you want a drink?" - as someone enters your house means tea or coffee, "Do you want a drink?" - as you talk about what to do in the evening means alcohol. Tricky.

So, to be honest, with a bit of food vocabulary, a bunch of stock phrases, lots of role plays and a bit on our idiosyncrasies I think that building a fifteen hour course will be pretty straightforward.

Knives and forks

It's odd what you stop noticing. Because of her job Maggie talks to lots of people who are new to the area. One of her clients, let's call her Betty, was telling Maggie about an experience in a local restaurant. Betty asked for a red wine to go with her set price meal. She was was pleasantly surprised when the waiter left the bottle on the table. Lots of wine from around here is still not premium product, it's something for drinking, so leaving the bottle with the implicit offer to drink as much of it as you want, is still very common. I wouldn't have noticed.

We went to a couple of posher than our usual style of restaurant last weekend. When I was telling a pal about the restaurants. I described them as "the sort of place where they take your cutlery after each course". I realised that the description presumed a little knowledge of everyday restaurant practice. Nowadays I would never think to leave my knife and fork at attention on the plate when I have finished the first course. I would set them to one side ready for the second course. Our guests from the UK don't and the waiter or waitress has to do it for them.

That was the idea, when I first started the blog, a sort of ooh!, aah!, look how funny that is. Nowadays, when a visiting Briton wants to pay at the bar for the drink as soon as it is served, when visitors find it strange that restaurants are not open midweek in the evening and when they really think that most Spaniards have a bit of a sleep in the afternoon I don't usually say anything.

So many of those things that were strange are now usual and some of the things that were usual are now strange. The strangest thing, for me, is when other long term immigrants still find those things strange after years and years here.

A swift half

I saw some article or advert about a micro brewery in Novelda a while ago.

We don't work on Wednesday afternoon; either of us. "Do you fancy a beer?" I asked Maggie. She said yes. We found the place OK. It looked decidedly closed but there was a bar next door and it seemed logical that the bar would have the local beer.

We went in. It wasn't a flash bar. It could probably do with a bit of a refit though the regulars probably like it as it is. There were lots of men, my age, playing dominoes or just sitting there nursing a beer. Fluorescent lights. There was a woman behind the bar and one female customer. We were a bit out of place. The beer, Exulans, was on display, a couple of third of a litre bottles on the bar.

"Hello, can we have a couple of bottles of the beer from next door, please."
"No. We don't have any." Moment of indecision. "Hang on though, I'll check in the back." The woman wanders off for a while. "No, we don't have any."
"Just a couple of whatever you have then, please."

We settled in, well we sort of perched on the stools at the bar, a bit uncomfortably. After a while the woman behind the bar engaged us in conversation. The problem it turned out was that the brewery was usually closed. The workers only turn up from time to time so the bar had not been able to replace their stock. Whilst she was speaking to us a man came to the bar to order another drink. As the woman continued to talk to us the man tapped a coin noisily and impatiently on the bar. The woman wasn't having that sort of behaviour and she told him so but it was obviously time for us to go. So we did.