No Savoy Truffle / Sin Trufa de Saboya

La versión español está después de la versión inglés.

IT’S BACK TO Norway today (sadly, only on my blog). We began our travels in Trondheim, as far north as you can go before being in “Northern Norway,” We then continued to Bodø (officially northern but not very far), a charming small city. Then it was on to Sortland (really north). San Geraldo’s maternal grandfather was born about 45 minutes north of Sortland in the town of Bjørnskinn (which means “bear skin”). On every stop along the way, we had the great joy of connecting with San Geraldo’s extended family — through both his maternal grandmother (from the south) and grandfather (from the north). We’re already talking about when we can go back. Oh, and we ate.

The top photo is the first dish San Geraldo had at every hotel breakfast (before his jam with waffles). A huge pile of baked beans. Every morning. For 12 mornings. For me the only thing that could have made that worse would have been pickled beets.

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HOY A VUELTO a Noruega (lamentablemente, solo en mi blog). Comenzamos nuestros viajes en Trondheim, tan al norte como sea posible antes de estar en el “Norte de Noruega”, luego continuamos a Bodø (oficialmente norte pero no muy lejos), una ciudad más pequeña y encantadora. Luego fue a Sortland (realmente norte). El abuelo materno de San Geraldo nació unos 45 minutos al norte de Sortland en la ciudad de Bjørnskinn (que significa “piel de oso”). En cada parada del camino, tuvimos la gran alegría de conectarnos con la familia extendida de San Geraldo, tanto a través de su abuela materna (del sur) como de su abuelo (del norte). Ya estamos hablando de cuándo podemos volver. Ah, y comimos.

La foto superior es el primer plato que San Geraldo tomó en cada desayuno del hotel (antes de su mermelada con gofres). Una enorme pila de frijoles horneados. Cada mañana. ¡Por 12 mañanas! Para mí, lo único que podría haber empeorado las remolachas en vinagre.

One night in Bodø, we brought the makings for banana splits to Cousins Andreas and Anette’s house. Andreas and Anette served us two incredible dinners. We left them with their three kids and a major sugar rush.
Una noche en Bodø, llevamos los ingredientes para “banana splits” a la casa de los primos Andreas y Anette. Andreas y Anette nos sirvieron dos cenas increíbles. Los dejamos con sus tres hijos y una gran fiebre del azúcar.
My first home-cooked Norwegian meal at Cousin Elin’s house north of Sortland (the pizza was amazing)!
¡Mi primera comida noruega (hecha en casa) en la casa de la prima, Elin, al norte de Sortland (la pizza fue increíble)!
My second home-cooked Norwegian meal at Cousin Elin’s house. Reindeer and moose stew. I was shocked by the idea of it and by how good it was.
Mi segunda comida noruega casera en la casa de prima Elin. Estofado de renos y alces. Me sorprendió la idea y lo bueno que era.
Arctic Char at Restaurant Sortland Mat & Vinhus.
Trucha Alpina en el restaurante Sortland Mat & Vinhus.
Reindeer (not mine) at Mat & Vinhus.
Reno (no mío) en Mat & Vinhus.
Fish and chips.
Pescado y papas fritas.
Brown cheese (brunøst) ice cream. Yes, really! And it’s incredible.
Helado de queso marrón (brunøst). ¡Sí, en serio! Y es increible.
Brown cheese ice cream and rhubarb.
Helado de queso marrón y ruibarbo.
Someone else’s something-or-other. I got to eat the brown cheese ice cream!
¡Tuve que comer el helado de queso marrón!
Chocolate lava cake and more brown cheese ice cream for me!
¡Tarta de lava de chocolate y más helado de queso marrón para mí!
Actual brunøst (brown cheese), in case you were wondering. On my morning waffles. I love it; the darker the better.
Brunøst real (queso marrón), en caso de que te lo estés preguntando. En mi mañana gofres. Me encanta; cuanto más oscuro, mejor.
Arctic Char at the restaurant at Andøy Friluftssenter (Andøy Recreation Center), which is halfway between the city of Sortland and the town of Bjørnskinn.
Trucha Alpina en el restaurante de Andøy Friluftssenter (centro de recreación de Andøy), que está a medio camino entre la ciudad de Sortland y la ciudad de Bjørnskinn.
San Geraldo’s moose pie at Fryluftcenter.
Tarta de alce de San Geraldo en Fryluftcenter.
Lunch in the sunshine outside the public library in Bodø.
Almuerzo al sol fuera de la biblioteca pública en Bodø.
Fish tacos, Norwegian style.
Tacos de pescado al estilo noruego.
Coca Cola “uten sukker” (without sugar) and San Geraldo uten food.
Coca Cola “uten sukker” (sin azúcar) y San Geraldo uten comida.
Some of the wonderful Northern family, at Mat & Vinhus, Sortland.
Algunos de la familia maravillosa del norte, en Mat & Vinhus, Sortland.
Marshmallow Farms! Hay and barley bales.
¡Granjas de Malvaviscos! Pacas de heno y cebada.

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Chocolate-Smothered Waffle: Better Going Down

San Geraldo and I went last night to Feria Málaga (Málaga Fair). Last year I enjoyed the daytime festivities in the center of the old city (click here to see last year’s blog post). This year, we decided to check out the nighttime festivities that take place outside the city center and just a bit closer to where we live.

Unlike the casetas at Feria Sevilla (click here to see those pictures), the casetas at Málaga are free and open to the public. We didn’t see the horses and carriages famous in Sevilla. And the traditional feria costumes, although in abundance, were less so than in Sevilla. But there was still plenty to see and experience and I found it less overwhelming than Sevilla’s fair. The fairgrounds are beautiful and sprawling and much more pleasant to explore. The lights were enchanting. The rides were fun to watch. Given how things progressed, it’s good I opted out of going on any.

As usual, click any image to see it big time.

The Lights

THE ENTRANCE.

The food all looked really delicious. I take that back. Some of the food looked really delicious. However, there were a number of “edibles” that looked radioactive. San Geraldo and I succumbed to enticing gofres (waffles) smothered in chocolate. It was so good going down. About a half hour later, however, the waffle and chocolate decided to repeat itself. And, let me just say, it wasn’t quite so delicious on the reflux. And there were no antacids in sight. But, I soldiered on. What’s a little heartburn?

At 11 p.m., we caught the next to last train for home. It was crowded with fair-goers, so we stood most of the way. I felt fine. But we sat for the last three stops and the waffle and chocolate decided to make another return visit (I probably shouldn’t have bent at the waist).

The Food

MINE. MINE. MINE. MINE. MINE.
IGNORANCE IS BLISS.

One stop before home, I stood up, looked at San Geraldo and said, “I feel sick.” (Apologies to my third-grade teacher; I know I’m supposed to say “ill,” not “sick.” But her name was Mrs. Doody, so…) 

But back to the train. The doors opened and I signaled to San Geraldo that when I said sick, I meant I-need-to-get-off-the-train sick. He jumped off behind me at a, thankfully, dark and empty station. I quickly headed to the railing and wretched into the bushes. Now, don’t get all squeamish on me (although I would in your shoes). Nothing serious happened. Just a case of powerful reflux. And then all was well.

Truthfully, I did it all just to get San Geraldo to take a walk with me. That station is about 1.5 km (1 mile) from home.

The People

FREEZE FRAME:  THEY ONLY MOVED TO SHAKE HANDS
WHEN THEY WERE GIVEN A TIP (WHICH WAS OFTEN).

AND SPEAKING OF DELICIOUS…
WITH HIS PLEASANT (AND PROUD) GRANDPARENTS.