The golden hills slope smoothly like the lithe lines of a hairless cat’s body. No sagebrush dot this form. The shadows rest in the nooks...

Today, I’m sitting in a cafe by a window watching the people pass. It’s a steady stream through the long paseo that is interspersed with...

Recycle, Recycle, Recycle! How many times have you heard this familiar refrain? I’ve heard it since I was a kid and continue to see it...

Pablo tunes his guitar, each smooth string pluck interspersed with a strike of the church’s bell. Noon on a sunny day in January spent...

The joys of coffee in a small town in Northern Spain

This is the third time in the last week that I’ve been reprimanded by my little sister for not partaking in free samples. For some...

It took three chomps to work my way through the bread, each bite starting with a crunch that sent a spray of crackled crust onto the...

We swam in the river this afternoon, or maybe I should say that we became part of the river for an hour. We were prodded to the cold...

I watch as sunlight spotlights a field on the other side of the small valley, turning it from grass and trees to liquid delight. If I...

Reflections on living in Spain and rationalizing eating churros

This Saturday, we saw a part of Andalucía that most tourists don’t get to see thanks to Paco, a colleague of my partner who offered to...

The lights dim, the audience slowly quiets, and then three men dressed in black take the stage. A talented guitarist, practically a kid...

We are distracted so much of the time. How can we slow down to appreciate those things that bring us true joy, purpose, and beauty? We...

I sit, the sugar burning the insides of my mouth. The sharpness of the sweetness surprises me. We often ignore how sweet sugar is....

I like the idea of risotto so much more than I like the taste of it. In fact, the thing that makes it so risotto-y (all that starch) is...

I felt like I was walking through the innards of Amazon, surrounded on all sides by stuff. Clothing, kitchenware, bedding, shoes,...

Once settled in a place with a kitchen, it hardly takes long for me to make a pot of beans. I like beans because they are meant to be...

Migas: a dish I could't figure out. A tapa made of corn? flour? couscous? It turns out to be made of bread crumbs (migas means "crumbs"...

Food is a mirror. It reflects our values, our traditions, and the narratives we construct about ourselves and our society. I want to see...

It feels like I've never seen this much blue sky After months of stone and gray blocking my vision, an almost unbounded sky— the winter...