I Want Your Ice Cream / Quiero Tu Helado

La versión español está después de la versión inglés.

I’M HAVING A bit of an ice cream fixation lately. It started when San Geraldo brought home pints of Häagen-Dazs chocolate frappe, which really was like eating a chocolate frappe. SO good. Restaurante Primavera makes their own ice cream, however, and even Häagen-Dazs chocolate frappe, which really is like eating a chocolate frappe, can’t compete with that. Kathleen, Pedro, and Luke shared three scoops last week. Turrón, dulce de leche, and strawberry. They made fast work of it but when Luke and Pedro were distracted Kathleen finished it off. “I’m pregnant!” she said. (She’s been using that line for more than 9 months.) She’s STILL pregnant — although we’re waiting for word that the baby has arrived. Soon she’ll be saying, “I just had a baby!”

My Mother the Dowager Duchess had a fondness for ice cream. It was her favorite food group. Every so often, she would serve us waffles and ice cream for lunch. Once when I was in high school, she decided to diet and lose 5 pounds. The first day, she did so well until lunch time that she rewarded herself with a large bowl of ice cream.

Anyway, Pedro and Kathleen reminded me how good Primavera’s ice cream is, so I’m hooked again. On a recent night I had dulce de leche and turrón. Last night, with new friends we recently met, I had chocolate and turrón. (I love anything turrón.) But, knowing I was going to have two scoops of ice cream for dessert, I had a light and healthy dinner — chicken skewers and vegetables. Everyone else at the table had pizza, and pasta, and cheese, and garlic-cheese bread. They didn’t have room for dessert! I’m waiting for the chef to make up another batch of pistachio. Then I’ll have pistachio and turrón. Or maybe I’ll have three scoops. I missed that dulce de leche last night. Come to think of it, the chocolate was perfection. Four scoops. Maybe that will be my dinner.


ESTOY TENIENDO UN poco de fijación de helado últimamente. Comenzó cuando San Geraldo trajo a casa pintas de Häagen-Dazs chocolate frappe, que realmente era como comer un chocolate frappe. Tan bueno. Sin embargo, el Restaurante Primavera hace su propio helado, e incluso el Häagen-Dazs chocolate frappe, que realmente es como comer un frappe de chocolate, no puede competir con eso. Kathleen, Pedro y Luke compartieron tres bolas la semana pasada. Turrón, dulce de leche y fresa. Hicieron un trabajo rápido pero cuando Luke y Pedro se distrajeron Kathleen lo terminó. “¡Estoy embarazada!”, Dijo ella. (Ella ha estado usando esa línea durante más de 9 meses). TODAVÍA está embarazada, aunque estamos esperando noticias de que el bebé ha llegado. Pronto estará diciendo: “¡Acabo de tener un bebé!

Mi Madre La Duquesa Viuda, tenía afición por los helados. Era su grupo de comida favorito. De vez en cuando, ella nos servía gofres y helado para el almuerzo. Una vez, cuando yo estaba en la escuela secundaria, decidió hacer dieta y perder 5 libras. El primer día, le fue tan bien hasta la hora del almuerzo que se recompensó con un gran tazón de helado.

De todos modos, Pedro y Kathleen me recordaron lo bueno que es el helado de Primavera, así que estoy enganchado de nuevo. En una noche reciente tuve dulce de leche y turrón. Anoche, con nuevos amigos que conocimos recientemente, comí chocolate y turrón. Pero, sabiendo que iba a tomar dos bolas de helado para el postre, tuve una cena ligera y saludable: brochetas de pollo y verduras. Todos los demás en la mesa tenían pizza, pasta, queso, y pan de ajo y queso. ¡No tenían espacio para el postre! Estoy esperando que el chef prepare otro lote de pistacho. Luego tendré pistacho y turrón. O tal vez tenga tres bolas. Extrañé ese dulce de leche anoche. Ahora que lo pienso, el chocolate era la perfección. Cuatro bolas. Quizás esa sea mi cena.

It’s obvious Kathleen was plotting her strategy.
Es obvio que Kathleen estaba tramando su estrategia.
Turrón y chocolate.
Turrón y Dulce de Leche.

Do you think CAMP LONG HORN might have another meaning or am I the only one with a dirty mind?

(Campo de Cuernos Largos) podría tener otro significado o soy el único con una mente sucia?


And speaking of double meanings. / Y hablando de doble sentido.

The Heat Is On

The weekend was supposed to be filled with sunshine. Maybe this is what “filled with sunshine” looks like in England or Wales. But the Costa del Sol is the Coast of the Sun, and this weekend did not live up to the name. We had perhaps a half hour of undisguised sunshine today. But it’s once again a mix of clouds and sun. And that might be alright somewhere else, but we feel the chill. Besides, the high today has only been around 17C (63F). (I know, I know: I’m playing the world’s smallest violin.)

Dudo doesn’t like the cold (yes, it’s all relative) and insists we turn on a space heater just for him. The minute he hears the click of the switch, he’s there with his face in the works. His position progresses as he and the space heater warm up.

(Click the images to turn up the heat.)

After coffee this morning, I saw a little poodle who apparently doesn’t much like the cold either. He was very chic. I wouldn’t mind having that outfit; I think my tail might look quite good in it.

Leave it to San Geraldo to find the best way to overcome these cold, wintery days. He’s preparing his annual batch of Jamaican Black Cake (click here for last year’s post and the recipe). Even if all the alcohol doesn’t warm us up, it will at least make us think we’re warm.


“Tell me can you feel it…”

The Cat In The Hat

I used to hate wearing hats. Since arriving in Spain, however, I discovered that if I wear a decent hat when it rains, I don’t have to carry an umbrella.

That hat became known as my Frank Sihatra Not (as friend Darrin said when his tongue slipped, meaning to say “Frank Sinatra hat” click here for that story).

I’ve had a shiny head for many years and the sun has never bothered me. This year, however, I’ve noticed I’m not as tough (meaning “young”) as I used to be when it comes to the sun’s heat. I’ve been hit with heat exhaustion a couple of times and I don’t want to end up with heatstroke.

It’s time to give in to the hat. (My father hated hats even more than I do and he gave in to the hat when he was in his 40s.)


I popped into a local market this morning while out for a walk and I found a lightweight, casual cap (as opposed to the two summer-weight Frank Sihatra Nots I have in the house).

I like everything about the cap except for the fact that it’s got a little tag that says “SPORTS.” There were other hats without the tag but they were heavy canvas. I shared my thoughts with the shop owner. He told me I was “delgado” and “un deportista” (slim and an athlete) and “Eh-sports” (his pronunciation) was appropriate in my case. I bought it. Hook line and sinker.

So, back to the title of this post: I am the Cat and this is my hat.