Priorat

I am about to try Priorat.

For those of you not in the know, it comes from a very special terroir, somewhere north of here. I discovered it quite by accident when it came up on Epicurious as the recommended wine to have with a rather special slow roasted duck dish I made a year or more ago. It so happened to be the latest thing in wine, at that time. Until now, not a drop has passed my lips - you cannot come by it for less than $60 or $80 a bottle in Vancouver, from Firefly on Cambie, for example. The really good stuff goes for much more, I am told.

Priorat comes from an apparently tiny hilly region with exceptionally poor/sandy soil, that happens to get quite extreme heat and sun, if I remember correctly (check me out on these details), and up until recently, when some hotshot winemakers got ahold of it that knew what to do with it, it made jammy plonk. Well, my Priorat comes from the Lidl supermarket where cases of wine still in boxes are piled along one wall, and they unceremoniously dump your groceries down a little ramp where you bag them yourself, nervously watching to make sure the customer before and after you don't get your stuff mixed in with their E0.99 shampoo.

Loli gave me the tip to go to Lidl for wine. I think cheapness was the objective, though she said it was good. As I weighed the prices of Ribera del Duoros and Riojas against embarassment (despite my budget, tending more towards the expensive ones, at E3.50, rather than the ones for E1.69, but not wanting Loli to think I am some kind of spoilt snob) I noticed the misfit Priorat, and was surprised to say the least, but laughed, wondering if it would be terrible.

Well, it certainly isn't bad. I would say it is definitely decent, for E4.99 a bottle. Is a little minerally, has quite a mellow taste for such a cheap wine, and definitely a heavy berry taste, but I wouldn't say jammy, or fruit juicy like crap wine. The cork says, “wein, vino, wine” in spiralling, repeating print, diagonally across it, which does not normally give me confidence that the wine will be worth anything, and it has instructions in at least 3 languages on the back. I am sorry, Carol, that I did not let it breathe, nor did I wait to decant it for an hour, as it suggested, though I did think I might attempt to wait a while. That just didn't happen though.

Anyways, I am sitting here having it with the only bread available on a very dark, cloudy, late Saturday afternoon, and with some of the E12 for 200grams Jamon that I got early this week. And of course a heavy drizzle of olive oil all over the bread. I am listening to Fandangos, and thinking about going to the Pena that is really near me, tonight, but not feeling much like venturing out on a day that is almost as cold as Vancouver might be. That is mostly due to the wind. Sevilla is below the magic line and was not due for negative temperatures today, though most parts north of here are, and there was even snow blowing behind the announcer in Mallorca (or whatever island is off the coast by Barcelona).

Mentiras, mentiras, casi todo en este mundo es mentira... el hombre mas importante.... en el espejo.... di..iii...yeee iiii.... ayyyeeeee.... (a rather dark but very cool letra)

I am fighting a cold still, and Loli keeps plying me with medicine, which I would normally not take, but feel I cannot refuse. She tells me it is natural, though it is obviously not, as the name has “...idol” on the end. At least it is not antibiotics, so I am breaking a rule I have not broken for probably 10 years. I have probably taken pain killers once since 2000 or 2001 when I had my tooth surgery, and not a single piece of western medicine has passed my mouth other than that, despite time in China, and all sorts of germ issues there!

I have gotten ahold of Juan Carlos and Keiko and will try to see them both tomorrow in Jerez. Hopefully the weather is better, and I will not have to be facing walking around in cold wind. This morning I sat at Cafe Hercules to do my blogging and answer a few e-mails. I apologise for the ones I still haven't answered. Poor Zhang Kun in China is not going to get answered for some time still as that means downloading Chinese character capability which I don't think I put onto this computer yet.

The pate aromatizado de vino de Jerez is a fail. If I realized it was going to be canned I would not have bought it. They actually carried it in the really exclusive Jamon shop, so I thought it would be good (had previously bought it in a slightly less exclusive specialty shop). Anyways, at Carrefour in Jerez last summer I used to get a really awesome French pate in a tiny jar. The pate here is higado de cerdo, which is a bit weird for us: pig liver.

I took a break and am now waiting for my tortilla to cook. More bread, this time with raw garlic and oil, and some really smoky chorizo. And manchego, more wine. This time it has at least breathed for 15 minutes...

Today I woke up and had a shower, which is not normally how things have been going. Last summer I showered always, before going to classes, even when I sweat like crazy. This time, I've finally realised the stupidity of that. Now I go to bed with the tights and underwear on that I am going to wear the next morning. Disgusting. Yesterday I hung around in the afternoon in gross clothes that I'd worn all morning for dancing – well, changing to an already used tank top once – until like 8 pm, when I finally got done with all the sweating for the day.

Anyways, the point was that today was different, being Saturday. I had some Pu Er tea and toasted a small piece of gallega loaf on Loli's toaster, which is a small flat pan with ridges and a sticking up handle, that you put over the gas flame. Then I went down to Cafe Hercules with my computer and got the only table that has a plug in the wall, beside the toilet and the storage room. Had a cafe solo (varies between a large espresso and a small americano) and a tostada enterro (whole toasted bun) with tomato and aceite (oil). Cafe Hercules is definitely cheap for Sevilla: only E2 for all that, and several hours worth of internet. Cafe Hercules is on an odd-shaped corner about a block off the Alameda de Hercules, and about 2 blocks down from my place. It has a lot of windows and is fairly traditional looking. The clientele seems to be populated by Commercial Drive-y looking people. I feel pretty comfortable there in a wool hat, without makeup, which is a bit unusual here.