The morning after ⁄ La mañana después

La versión en español está después de la versión en inglés.

MY BIRTHDAY DINNER AT MESÓN Salvador was a joy. Great friends, great food, great service. An evening filled with happiness. I overindulged. And I paid for it — with indigestion (the wine and cheesecake) that kept me awake until 4:00.

We all, except Lulu, had steak. Always excellent at Mesón Salvador. Lulu had a beautiful salad topped by a big slab of goat cheese. I had two (not one, but two) glasses of Ribera del Duero (an excellent red wine from Northern Spain). Instead of potatoes, I had a salad. I hadn’t thrown all caution to the wind. The chef added beets to the dinner salad. I hate beets about as much as I hate baked beans and mushy peas. I can’t eat anything they’ve touched. San Geraldo loves them. He scraped the beets off my plate, along with any “contaminated” items.

For my birthday dessert, it was a beautiful slice of cheese cake. I used to be a cheese cake purist. If it wasn’t from New York City, I didn’t consider it any good. Mesón Salvador has forced me to change my tune. They make a cheesecake as good, if not better, than any I’ve had in New York.

San Geraldo entertained the table, unintentionally, by dunking bread into his Coke. Paula and Alexander had never witnessed that. And Paula didn’t notice until a piece of bread fell off his fork and into his glass. You can see the look on her face below.

Adrian and David took good care of us. Lulu told Adrian to join her. He did, momentarily. Don’t tell their spouses. There was a thunder and lightning storm while we had dinner outside on the terrace. Adrian and David didn’t know how old I was, so they first put a question mark candle on my cheese cake. When Adrian brought me my first glass of wine, he attached a note wishing me a happy 18th birthday.

I don’t remember my 18th. The only birthdays I remember before San Geraldo are my 5th, 13th, and 20th. My parents hosted a big party for my 5th. One of my cousins bullied me (not for the first time and not for the last) when we were outside playing. I went up to my room, before cake, and slept through the rest of the party. My 13th was my bar mitzvah. All the stops were pulled out. My 20th was my first time in Italy. My friend there didn’t forget it and even ordered me a birthday breakfast pastry that included anchovies, which at the time I hated as much as beets, baked beans, and mushy peas. How will I ever forget that? Lots of very good birthdays after I turned 27 and met San Geraldo who dips bread in Coca Cola; removes beets, baked beans, and mushy peas from my plate; and doesn’t wash dishes (nor pick them up off the floor).

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MI CENA DE CUMPLEAÑOS EN Mesón Salvador fue una alegría. Grandes amigos, buena comida, servicio. Una tarde llena de felicidad. Me excedí. Y pagué por ello — con una indigestión (el vino y la tarta de queso) que me mantuvo despierto hasta las 4:00.

Todos, excepto Lulu, comimos bistec. Siempre excelente en Mesón Salvador. Lulu comió una hermosa ensalada cubierta con una gran porción de queso de cabra. Tomé dos (no una, sino dos) copas de Ribera del Duero (un excelente vino tinto del norte de España). En lugar de patatas, comí una ensalada. No había echado por la borda toda la precaución. El chef añadió remolacha a la ensalada de la cena. Odio la remolacha tanto como los frijoles horneados y los guisantes blandos. No puedo comer nada de lo que hayan tocado. San Geraldo los ama. Raspó las remolachas de mi plato, junto con cualquier artículo “contaminado”.

Para el postre de mi cumpleaños, fue una hermosa rebanada de tarta de queso. Solía ​​ser un purista de la tarta de queso. Si no era de la ciudad de Nueva York, no lo consideraba nada bueno. Mesón Salvador me ha obligado a cambiar de aires. Hacen una tarta de queso tan buena, si no mejor, que cualquiera que haya probado en Nueva York.

San Geraldo entretuvo la mesa, sin querer, mojando pan en su Coca-Cola. Paula y Alexander nunca habían presenciado eso. Y Paula no se dio cuenta hasta que un trozo de pan se le cayó del tenedor al vaso. Puedes ver la expresión de su rostro a continuación.

Adrian y David nos cuidaron muy bien. Lulu le dijo a Adrian que se uniera a ella. Lo hizo, momentáneamente. No se lo digas a sus cónyuges. Hubo una tormenta de truenos y relámpagos mientras cenábamos en la terraza. Adrian y David no sabían cuántos años tenía, así que primero pusieron una vela con un signo de interrogación en mi tarta de queso. Cuando Adrian me trajo mi primera copa de vino, adjuntó una nota deseándome un feliz cumpleaños número 18.

No recuerdo mi 18. Los únicos cumpleaños que recuerdo antes de San Geraldo son el 5, el 13 y el 20. Mis padres organizaron una gran fiesta para mi quinto. Uno de mis primos me intimidó (ni por primera vez ni por última vez) cuando estábamos afuera jugando. Subí a mi habitació, antes del pastel, y dormí durante el resto de la fiesta. Mi 13 fue mi bar mitzvah. Se sacaron todas las paradas. Mi vigésimo fue mi primera vez en Italia. Mi amiga no lo olvidó e incluso me pidió un pastel de desayuno de cumpleaños que incluía anchoas, que en ese momento odiaba tanto como la remolacha, los frijoles horneados y los guisantes blandos. ¿Cómo voy a olvidar eso? Muchos muy buenos cumpleaños después de que cumplí 27 años y conocí a San Geraldo que moja pan en Coca Cola; quita las remolachas, los frijoles horneados, y los guisantes blandos de mi plato; y no lava platos (ni los recoge del suelo).

• The morning after.
• La mañana después.

Author: Moving with Mitchell

From Brooklyn, New York; to North Massapequa; back to Brooklyn; Brockport, New York; back to Brooklyn... To Boston, Massachusetts, where I met Jerry... To Marina del Rey, California; Washington, DC; New Haven and Guilford, Connecticut; San Diego, San Francisco, Palm Springs, and Santa Barbara, California; Las Vegas, Nevada; Irvine, California; Sevilla, Spain. And Fuengirola, Málaga..

34 thoughts on “The morning after ⁄ La mañana después”

  1. So glad you got to get out and enjoy your 18th Birthday!!! I hope you are celebrating all week. They have been putting a question mark candle on my cake for years. One a side note, Ill be working on the logistics for your cake next year, and how to get me in it. and Over there.

    Now, I still can’t get past San Geraldo dipping bread in coke?!?!?!?!?!?!

    1. Mistress Borghese,
      The bread in coke thing began when he was a kid and would have his braces tightened. You’d think it would have stopped when the braces were removed. Can’t wait for the cake!

  2. Looks fantabulous! I LOVE beets (not the pickled ones so much, though) and goat cheese, so I would have loved both of those salads…well, and I love steak and I love cheesecake! Anchovies, you can remove from my pizza, please (harking back to your Italy birthday at age 20, 2 years in the future).
    Birthday love to you! (Mine is next week… please send Mesón Salvador cheesecake.)

    1. Judy C,
      I love goat cheese. You can share my beets with SG. I still don’t like those little salty, smelly, tinned anchovies. But I love the fresh ones here. Cheesecake is on its way.

  3. What a wonderful celebration with the best present ever: removing the beets and the contaminated bits from the plate.
    I’m with you about beets,

    1. Bob,
      I do the same for SG with olives and walnuts. My grandmother made borscht and I remember when I was little seeing the jar on a shelf in the kitchen (exposed, on the wall). It gave me the creeps. But I’ve tried beets over the years, as recently as a few years ago, and still no go. However, I’ve had beet crisps (chips). Delicious.

  4. I love beets now, but haven’t always liked them. SG always comes through for you! Too bad about the heartburn, otherwise your day sounds wonderful!

    1. Wilma,
      It was really reflux … and was awful. But I’m fine today and remembering the perfect evening. I’ve tried beets again and again, baked beans too. It’s clearly not going to change for me.

  5. Well that was a great party and only 67 with a 32 waist, oh la la! Some people are lucky. Happy Birthday!

  6. It looks like a good time was had by all! I must agree with Laurent: only 67 with a 32 waist — some people have all the luck, LOL!

    There is indeed a story of how I got my name, but it’s far too long and boring to go into here. Suffice it to say that I’m a 57 year old Canadian woman of mystery….. and pertinent facts shall be revealed when the time is right, LOL!

    1. Tundra Bunny,
      The 32 inch waist at this point takes maintenance, clearly!

      You were the first Bunny at the Tundra’s first Playboy Club, weren’t you?!? I remember Hef talking about you.

  7. It all sounds and looks wonderful! (Well, all except the heartburn). You have a beautiful life in Spain with San Geraldo and your friends. You are a lucky man!

    1. Jennifer,
      In less than a month we’ll have been in Spain 10 years. It’s a happy home.

    1. David:
      I had an older friend in NY who decided she would never turn 40. The first time it hit, she started counting again from 21. That was 40 years ago. I wonder how old she is.

  8. What a lovely celebration! Sometimes small is beautiful when it is shared with those we love and those we love us. A belated Happy Birthday.

  9. Sorry about the indigestion! It sounds like it was worth it, though. Cheesecake better than NYC?! Blasphemy!

    I have never, ever heard of dunking bread in Coke. And I’m from the South!

    1. Steve:
      I’m sure it was the two glasses of Ribera. They were good, but NOT worth it. And, yeah, I’m a blasphemer. We are ALL hooked on their cheesecake. SG started dunking bread in Coke (or Pepsi) when he was a kid and had his braces tightened. It felt good on his sore gums and teeth. For some reason, he still does it… although I don’t remember him doing it years back. I guess he was trying to impress me with his class.

  10. Beets are disgusting. Here’s to the man who removes them from your plate.

    Love,
    Janie

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