I hate pork. I live in Spain. Hating pork in Spain is not only difficult, it basically makes you an outcast. I never thought I'd be one to discuss my eating habits, but moving to a different country isn't only a physical adjustment, it's a gastronomical one as well. I thought moving to Spain would be wonderful for my diet, all that hype about a Mediterranean diet had me excited.
For those as geographically clueless as me, the Mediterranean Sea does not border Spain. And even if it did, Coruña would be the farthest point in Spain from the Mediterranean coast... so, yea. That's a little embarrassing, but I digress.
Living in Spain is like living in a carbohydrate heaven. The family I was living with in Madrid had fresh baguettes delivered to their door every. single. day. They had a little mailbox like structure right outside the front door where the hot, fresh, baked to perfection bread was delivered daily - even on the weekends. I'll admit, there were some days when that's all I ate, that and a jar of pickled garlic (more on that magical culinary discovery later).
Combine the number of Chase banks, Starbucks, and street meat vendors in NYC and you won't even come close to touching the number of bakeries in Spain. Flakey, buttery goodness surrounds you at every turn. Much like a terrible eyebrow wax, you cannot escape.
Fried. Everything in Spain is fried, battered, and fried. The family I live with now has a deep fryer attached to their stove range. I mean, what is that?! There is also meat in everything, which bring us back to the difficulties of being a pork hater. There is meat in almost every dish. I would like to take a moment to admit that I did try a croquet with ham the other day, but that's only because it was chopped up into little pieces inside a deep fried dumpling like snack. That very same day I also tried pulpo, which is octopus. It wasn't earth shattering. It tasted like tuna. What is earth shattering is that pickled garlic I told you about. It's garlic that you can eat clove by clove without any of the consequences of un-pickled garlic. Try it. Put it on everything. It will change your life.
Basically, what I'm getting at is that my diet has been terrible and it's been much more difficult than I thought it would be to be healthy. When my pants started getting tighter (like
super tight) I finally said to myself, "Taylor, you need to pump the brakes. You have a limited number of pants to last you the duration of your visa so chill with the bread and palmeras and pastels de crema and empanadas, etc." Also, all the dairy and wheat was making my stomach hurt and giving me headaches and that was awful.
So after my little pep talk, I joined a gym and started getting my culinary act together. Being healthy in moving to Coruña has had it's challenges, but it hasn't been as difficult as I thought, especially since my Spanish mom is a health nut. The lady is a stick. A stick with muscles and who runs
a lot and eats
very little. I don't particularly think the way she eats is the
most healthy but it's nice to have someone to balance your act out.
I've been trying to cut way back on the dairy and bread. I do make my oatmeal in the mornings with milk, cinnamon and sugar. That keeps me full through the morning and through my workout. When I get home I have lunch, usually consisting of salads, all kinds of salads or leftovers if I'm feeling lazy. The veggies and fruits are really fresh here so I like to chomp on those with a little bit of protein for lunch. Snack is a big deal in Spain so for snack I usually have a yogurt or some more fruit. When Lola is home it's great because she cooks, but given the nature of her work there are many times when it's just me and the kids for dinner. Having to cook dinner for myself and three semi-picky children is interesting. I've had some hits and some misses. When in doubt, I just deep fry some potatoes with steak or whip up some pasta. I had a winner a few weeks ago with a lemon-y chicken and rice. I went a little overboard with the lemon so I'm not going to share my recipe until I perfect it.
I do miss the convenience and familiarity of eating in the US but I think inevitably, it will be okay that I hate pork in Spain, it might even make me a better person.
Yesterday I ran my first race. It was a 7K road race along the Paseo Marítimo in Coruña, it was also the most excited I've ever been to fail miserably.
