I've talked about a few of the public water sources in El Masroig in the past but thought it would be interesting to take you on a tour of them. There are eight fountains (fonts) in town that I know about. At least one dates back to the founding of the pueblo. If you do the math, that works out to one for every forty people. They're (more or less) evenly distributed so no one would have to walk more than a couple of minutes for water.
Water is scarce in most of Spain and the average person uses a third less than in the U.S. I'm guessing that mains water wasn't installed until well into the 20th Century because the community wash-house was built in 1906. Horses, mules and other livestock were once kept in town and they needed water, too. Several of the fountains are located along the main road through town so travelers could water their draft animals and the locals could water their livestock on the way home.
The town keeps all the fountains in good repair and the water is the same as in the houses. I like the taste of the water here. It's a little hard so we do have to fight calcium spots but, overall, the quality is good. Here's a little tour:
St. Galdric This is on the far east side of town on the main road. There is very little information available on St. Galdric. He appears to be the patron of Catalan grape growers because he came to their aid against persecution by the various monasteries. Not surprisingly, the Official List of Saints of the Catholic Church (over 5000 described) doesn't mention St. Galdric.
Community Wash House This large building (probably 3000 square feet) was built for the ladies of the town to do their laundry. There are numerous troughs inside and plenty of water.
Font de Plaza de Iglesia On the opposite side of the plaza from the church, this would have served a lot of people. It doesn't have a trough for livestock.
Font del Perxe This is right in front of Montse Romera's house (our landlady). As you can see, it has a trough for washing or livestock. It's on the same street as the Casal which is our community center and café.
Plaza de Ajuntament This was probably the first fountain in town. The original civic administration buildings are here and, also, the oldest houses in town. There is a cluster of really sweet and interesting houses adjacent to the fountain.
Font Cap de Mas On the far west side, it's been tastefully modernized. The city keeps nice plants next to most of the fountains. In Catalan, "cap" means "head" or "top". Mas can mean "house, farm or farmhouse". It's generally accepted that Masroig means "red farm".
Font 1 de Abril, 1967 There is a wrought iron treble clef on the top of this fountain. The significance seems to be mysterious to some of our neighbors but I'll get to the bottom of it!
Font de Cooperativa In many ways, the Cooperativa is the economic center of the village. There is also a large water source there for everything from filling up your spray rig to washing your car. The Cooperativa is the pride of El Masroig.
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Lunch with Jesus and Phillip
I returned to El Masroig last week and was happy to find our neighbor, Phillip, still here. Phillip is a British marketing and public relations guru who makes his home across the street from us. He's bright, articulate, well-traveled and excellent company. His friend, Jesus (see the Breakfast with Jesus post), invited us to lunch yesterday at his casa pairal out beyond the Ermita.
To start, Jesus offered us some of his homemade vermouth and some potato chips laced with Tabasco sauce. Potato chips are considered appropriate for Americans around here. The vermouth was a new batch and a little drier than the last. It was excellent. According to Phillip, Jesus rarely makes it the same way twice. Additionally, I learned that green walnut husks are added to bring some tannin and the characteristic "amaro" flavor essential to quality digestivos.
We moved on to the first course of mussels. I think they were the best I've ever had. They were so fresh and tender and tasted very lightly of the sea. Jesus made a dipping sauce that was slightly picante. The mussels were eaten right off the shell. They were served with a garnatxa blanca that Jesus made in 2012. It was wonderfully rich and elegant and I think one of the best whites in Catalunya. Unfortunately, there's not very much of it.
We finished the wine with the rabbit stew. Everything Jesus served was authentic Catalan and it was wonderful to enjoy such a meal with such great company. You can see the stew in the photos and I only regret that it wasn't possible to capture the aroma for you.
After lunch, Phillip requested some of Jesus' homemade aguardiente (grappa). I've never had a positive experience with grappa. Most of them taste like steel wool soaked in kerosene. Jesus' grappa, however, was excellent! It was smooth and delicate on the palate. I had one small glass but the other chicos put a respectable dent in the bottle. That may have had something to do with the two hours of lively conversation that followed lunch. It's always fun for me to get fresh perspectives from folks from different parts of the world.
Phillip and I made our exit after almost five hours with Jesus. I was at home recovering from lunch when Francesc Masdeu showed up on his tractor and invited me to dinner at his parent's house. I went over there at 9:00 and had a lovely time. It was great to see Maria and Francisco. They seem to be doing pretty well. Francesc, as usual, works all the time and looks after his parents on the weekends. He recently looked at 2583 (his number) apartments in Barcelona in order to find a new place to live. It seems he and Marta found one they like.
I finally waddled home at 11:30. As you can imagine, I didn't get much done today.
To start, Jesus offered us some of his homemade vermouth and some potato chips laced with Tabasco sauce. Potato chips are considered appropriate for Americans around here. The vermouth was a new batch and a little drier than the last. It was excellent. According to Phillip, Jesus rarely makes it the same way twice. Additionally, I learned that green walnut husks are added to bring some tannin and the characteristic "amaro" flavor essential to quality digestivos.
We moved on to the first course of mussels. I think they were the best I've ever had. They were so fresh and tender and tasted very lightly of the sea. Jesus made a dipping sauce that was slightly picante. The mussels were eaten right off the shell. They were served with a garnatxa blanca that Jesus made in 2012. It was wonderfully rich and elegant and I think one of the best whites in Catalunya. Unfortunately, there's not very much of it.
We finished the wine with the rabbit stew. Everything Jesus served was authentic Catalan and it was wonderful to enjoy such a meal with such great company. You can see the stew in the photos and I only regret that it wasn't possible to capture the aroma for you.
After lunch, Phillip requested some of Jesus' homemade aguardiente (grappa). I've never had a positive experience with grappa. Most of them taste like steel wool soaked in kerosene. Jesus' grappa, however, was excellent! It was smooth and delicate on the palate. I had one small glass but the other chicos put a respectable dent in the bottle. That may have had something to do with the two hours of lively conversation that followed lunch. It's always fun for me to get fresh perspectives from folks from different parts of the world.
Phillip and I made our exit after almost five hours with Jesus. I was at home recovering from lunch when Francesc Masdeu showed up on his tractor and invited me to dinner at his parent's house. I went over there at 9:00 and had a lovely time. It was great to see Maria and Francisco. They seem to be doing pretty well. Francesc, as usual, works all the time and looks after his parents on the weekends. He recently looked at 2583 (his number) apartments in Barcelona in order to find a new place to live. It seems he and Marta found one they like.
I finally waddled home at 11:30. As you can imagine, I didn't get much done today.
Friday, October 25, 2013
October 2013 Reflections
My conversations with Jesus del Rio and my return to Texas on Wednesday have inspired a few reflections about cultural differences. Even though "people are people" in my experience, wherever you go, there are more than a few things that are different. Aside from a total lack of junk mail in Spain, here are a couple of examples of uniquely Catalan experiences:
1) I was having lunch in one of my favorite cafes last week when two women came in with a three year old boy. They set him on the counter so he could swing his legs. One of the women said," I think Junior's hungry." The other replied, "Oh? Well, let's feed him a plate of snails." The order was placed and few minutes later out came the caracoles (escargot). Junior started powering them down like they were chicken nuggets. While Junior was demolishing the caracoles, four attractive young women stopped to admire him. Sensing their admiration, Junior put down his toothpick. He puckered up his buttery/garlicky little lips and leaned his little face forward. In turn, he kissed all four of them squarely on the mouth. I was so proud of that kid I almost bought him a beer.
2) Maria is my neighbor downstairs. She has taken me under her wing and I like it because she is so pleasant and cheerful. Maria, like everyone else in town, is a huge fan of Barça (Futbol Club Barcelona). She asked me one day if I was a "futbolisto". I said I wasn't but that our son-in-law, Ted, is a futbolisto. She confidently asked if he is for Barça and I said he isn't. A cloud of shock and despair passed over her face and she said," He isn't for Madrid, is he?!" It took of few minutes of explaining to convince her that Ted is neither for nor against either Barça or Real Madrid because he supports a British club. The explanation seemed to console her but I think she secretly pities him.
A few days later, Maria bought me the slippers you see below. I think she wanted to save me from the same wretched fate that befell Ted. When I saw the slippers, I instantly converted to Barça and am now an ardent fan. Whenever I wear those slippers, I become younger, smarter and better looking. There is unanimous agreement on this, at least between Maria and me.
1) I was having lunch in one of my favorite cafes last week when two women came in with a three year old boy. They set him on the counter so he could swing his legs. One of the women said," I think Junior's hungry." The other replied, "Oh? Well, let's feed him a plate of snails." The order was placed and few minutes later out came the caracoles (escargot). Junior started powering them down like they were chicken nuggets. While Junior was demolishing the caracoles, four attractive young women stopped to admire him. Sensing their admiration, Junior put down his toothpick. He puckered up his buttery/garlicky little lips and leaned his little face forward. In turn, he kissed all four of them squarely on the mouth. I was so proud of that kid I almost bought him a beer.
2) Maria is my neighbor downstairs. She has taken me under her wing and I like it because she is so pleasant and cheerful. Maria, like everyone else in town, is a huge fan of Barça (Futbol Club Barcelona). She asked me one day if I was a "futbolisto". I said I wasn't but that our son-in-law, Ted, is a futbolisto. She confidently asked if he is for Barça and I said he isn't. A cloud of shock and despair passed over her face and she said," He isn't for Madrid, is he?!" It took of few minutes of explaining to convince her that Ted is neither for nor against either Barça or Real Madrid because he supports a British club. The explanation seemed to console her but I think she secretly pities him.
A few days later, Maria bought me the slippers you see below. I think she wanted to save me from the same wretched fate that befell Ted. When I saw the slippers, I instantly converted to Barça and am now an ardent fan. Whenever I wear those slippers, I become younger, smarter and better looking. There is unanimous agreement on this, at least between Maria and me.
Celler D. Russell Smith is on the water!
Celler D. Russell Smith is now sailing for Houston! Our ship, Hapag-Lloyd Akritas, left Barcelona on Monday bound for Houston on Nov. 13th. As always, bottling was a bit of a struggle but we "got 'er done". This was the first time I had ever loaded an ocean-going container.
I opted for refrigeration because we never know what will happen with the weather this time of year. The driver opened the doors and the fresh, minty smell of disinfectant wafted out. The inside of the container was as clean as an operating room! I've never seen anything like it.
It appears that every industry has its own peculiar lingo. International shipping is no exception. An ocean container is not loaded or filled. It is "stuffed". We stuffed the container in about 15 minutes. We discovered as the last pallet was being loaded that a miscalculation had been made on the pallet sizes because it wouldn't fit. I had visions of having to re-stack ten pallets of wine. A solution was found by using a "baby pallet" for the remaining cases. It took us a while to find one that would fit.
The doors were sealed with a tamper-evident seal, the reefer was turned on and it was off to Barcelona. ¡Buen viaje!
I opted for refrigeration because we never know what will happen with the weather this time of year. The driver opened the doors and the fresh, minty smell of disinfectant wafted out. The inside of the container was as clean as an operating room! I've never seen anything like it.
It appears that every industry has its own peculiar lingo. International shipping is no exception. An ocean container is not loaded or filled. It is "stuffed". We stuffed the container in about 15 minutes. We discovered as the last pallet was being loaded that a miscalculation had been made on the pallet sizes because it wouldn't fit. I had visions of having to re-stack ten pallets of wine. A solution was found by using a "baby pallet" for the remaining cases. It took us a while to find one that would fit.
The doors were sealed with a tamper-evident seal, the reefer was turned on and it was off to Barcelona. ¡Buen viaje!
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