Since I embarked upon life abroad (and back), goodbyes, unfortunately have become a regular fixture in the landscape of my life. Them's just the squeaks, UGH. When I said my first goodbye to my family, friends, and all that I've ever known, it hadn't occurred to me that that would be the first in what now seems like a never ending series of goodbyes. Some three years after that first farewell, I found myself, 3 weeks ago, on the opposite end of a farewell phone call with someone I didn't even know existed, according to Facebook, until March 2012. A friend in my head and on my timeline for over a year, whom I didn't actually meet in the flesh until September of 2013, and now in present day I can't believe I lived a lifetime, or ate a fine meal without him. I'm talking about my one and only paramour in all things food, Sean.
How, exactly, does one eat goodbye? What, exactly, is a foodie paramour? Sean and I have discussed the latter question at length; we've conversed about food while eating everything from bacon macaroni & cheese and sliders, to uni and the last white truffles of the season. We've clinked countless cocktails in the best bar in Madrid (and others), explored as many desserts as our blood sugar could handle in one day, twice, and drank wine and judged others in the spirit of Mean Girls without being mean spirited, while being judged for being some of the youngest (and poorest) people in the room. From the streets of Madrid, to the seaside of Gijón, to a Michelin-starred restaurant in Asturias, and the urban sprawl of Los Angeles, Sean and I have explored our love of food, wine, and all things Spanish, in ways that have created some of my fondest memories of Spain and in life.Read More