Hasta Luego, Alicante: An Homage

My, how the time flies. In just three short days I will leave Alicante. And this time, it is semi-permanent. Who knows if or when I will return, however, I would like to focus on the latter: when? Well, the other half of my orange* is a Spaniard, therefore, Spain somehow feels less like a transitory study-abroad destination and more like a part of my future that's already written. But, it's impossible to know when I'll/we'll be returning, so I've decided to pay my respects now.

How shall I do so? I'm tempted to write this post like a love-letter to Alicante. It would look something like this: Querido Alicante, te voy a hechar de menos, algunas cosas más que otras. But, I think I can write more frankly about Alicante if I choose to not address it as if it were a lover. However, if it were a lover, I would describe it as sweaty, pleasure-giving and animated.

Yes, my first impressions of Alicante were: it's covered in graffiti and I'm going to sweat a lot here. Then, I ventured into the shady, white and blue neighborhood of the cuidad antigua and thought "this is rather lovely, I think I'll order a glass of wine and stay a while." Then I was introduced to the beaches which are a far cry from the windy, deserted beaches of the Oregon coast that I'm accustomed to. In my first days, I noticed people selling coconuts, sangria and 40 minute massages for 20 euros. In my months here, I've tried them all and what do they all have in common: a lot of sand. Sand is something you can ignore when it's sticking to the orange peels in your second or third sangria, but it becomes abrasive (literally) during your slippery Thai playa-massage.

Alicante's hedonistic night scene cannot go unmentioned. I remember lounging in Le Jardin du Luxembourg with my favorite college professor who told me about his short stay in Alicante and how the folie in el barrio at night was like nothing he'd seen before or since. Indeed it is wild: Erasmus students squealing in their respective languages, local Spaniard guys hot on their tails, free caramel flavored shots upon entering the bars, a haze of cigarette (is it just cigarettes?) smoke thickening above the heads of those doing botellón in the streets. I remember being shocked when I saw people waltzing around in public with open beer bottles. I recall not knowing at first how to respond when a bartender asked me if I wanted my mojito para llevar (to take with me). However, this is A-OK in Spain and this helps shed some light on a time in Portland where Miguel (zee boyfriend) was walking with a beer in his hand and he was told to chuck it, which he did, with a lot of indigence, something he otherwise only ever showed when he was IDed in US bars. Apparently, these "strict, prudish American vestiges of the Prohibition" were just too culturally out of balance with his own. Aha, I get it now!

What about Spanish cuisine? From a products stand-point, I give only the highest praise. The Mediterranean Diet (which is considered part of UNESCO World Heritage) is ever-present here in Alicante. I've never tasted better cherry tomatoes, mandarin oranges or pescaditos. Nor have I seen white carrots with purple rings around the outside, or persimmons that you scoop out with a spoon. Additionally, I've never seen such heavy hands when I comes to the olive oil bottle. I am a fairly attentive eater and my alarms start to sound when I see someone pouring olive oil onto their plate of jamón in the same gesture and quantity that I use to pour detergent into my washing machine. With that being said, many famed cuisines have their paradoxes, and this must be one of Spain's. I know that I've increased my olive oil consumption 2 or 3 fold and I haven't gained a kilo (bien au contraire) and I've never had clearer skin or faster-growing hair. I'll stop now- I know you don't read my wine blog in order to learn about my personal beauty advances.

When it comes to variety, I would make the same criticism that I would make in France. While the traditional cuisines of both places are nothing short of EXTRAORDINARY, I think that sometimes restaurants and folks at home struggle to introduce new dishes into their repertoire. Here in Spain, the menu del día is very popular, but it varies only a little from week to week. The woman with whom I live would argue that I am wrong ("¿qué va?") because this monday is rice with rabbit and last week it was rice with chicken. Yes, yes, the two are very different animals, however, it's…rice…still. It would be great to hear from someone who's either from Spain or from someone whose had the experience of living in Spain. Is my host mom right; am I simply wrong? I know that it's rare to hear someone valorize American cuisine and I would be the last one that many people would expect to do so, because I've spent my whole adult life worshiping European gastronomy, however, one thing that the US has that Europe doesn't is: no traditions. Each family might have their special treats, however, we've only been a country for a little over 200 years, and as a result, we don't feel a necessary fidelity to certain dishes, ingredients or how to prepare them. It's a cuisine based on fusion, which, for me, is endlessly innovative.

Now, how could I accuse the country that yielded Ferran Adrià and Juan Mari Arzak of not being innovative? Well, to me, there seems to be a large divide between traditional Spanish cooking and the alta cocina, or haute cuisine. Both are of immense value and both are riquísima, however, that mid-section, somewhere between traditional Sunday dishes and once-in-a-life-time Basque country delicacies, is sadly unexplored. And THAT'S where American cuisine really impresses me: inventive, creative meals that rarely are made at home, don't cost a fortune and don't require a reservation a year in advance.

Now, let's turn to Alicante wines (after much ado). I've heard it said by many a casual drinker that the only worth-while wines in Alicante are the white ones. I really dislike these generalities and I am sure that there are several amazing wines that prove that this is false, however, it is mostly in line with my own preferences. I really do prefer the white varietals from this region. It could be that the general climate makes white wines more suitable, or it could be that the heat that pervades most of the year makes one want to drink fresher wines that are kept at a cooler temperature.** While I have said that I prefer whites, I will contradict myself a little by revealing that my over-all favorite wine from the Alicante D.O.C. is indeed red and it comes from Alicante: Beryna, which has been mentioned several times on this blog (it also has its fame in the comment section). It gets its name from the two vintners, Bernabé y Navarro, who produce their authentic wine of high quality and reputation. I've been able to try it in several different contexts and it's always impressed me. And let's not forget Fondillón, a centuries old Alicantian treasure. Read about it here.

So, it's time to wrapt this up. Maybe I'll do it in the form of a love-letter after all:

And, so, dear Alicante, even though you're rarely on time, and I always find myself waiting hours for you to get home so that I can eat dinner, and you seem really closed-off in the afternoon, and I feel like you care about soccer (I mean fútbol) more than me...you're still the one I want to sit with at the table for long, beautiful hours, and lounge with while I look at the Mediterranean Sea, and the one I want to share a bottles of wine with.

I'll miss how warm you kept me in bed all those nights.
Love,
McKenzie

*Orange half=media naranja=soul mate
**One of my biggest pet peeves about you, Alicante, is how you insist on refrigerating red wine. I had some serious doubts about our compatibility when I realized you do that all the time.