back to the North Where I usually ask for "coffee" in the cafeterias. Six kilometers from the shore accurate Valencia quantified Mediterranean-distance between the street of Pavia and the Plaza de la Virgen, one must choose the "cut" if it is to circumvent the bowl as beef broth (bouillon I am inclined to the "bouquet garni" very traditional French cuisine, generous with the thyme, rosemary and laurel). On the Cantabrian
coffee is taken with large windows, making voyeur-pose that there is confused with decadence or nostalgia. The industrial restructuring of the eighties left loose siliceous mineral Asturias and much much staring into those big glass openings with multi-purpose cleaning is ridiculous, by natural rain, I mean ... and siredurgia crisis (how chimneys were smoking next to the highway on his way to Oviedo, even infants, to the General Hospital for tests Alport syndrome).
and evening, of course. What love of conversation with coffee. Even the chess players were Dindurra gatherings, which always confused with homosexuals to sit at the table area where "the race was" the castiza style (the Iberian cruising so dear to the secret police, back in the seventies).
used to be "coffee" of 125 pesetas in the nineties, temporarily coffee smelled like hand lotion, because the waiters spent plenty of money in the box rubbing against sunburn, which served him a milk , inevitably, already on the table, holding the tray on the boiling pot (detail that made us conclude that the novel was young palm open under the aluminum).
From October 95 and began to pay my 30 dollars. Castilian coffee, blood and Ana Salamanca Charro. Pontifical university which I shall soon, to revisit.
0 comments:
Post a Comment