1) I allowed myself to get so hungry that I was unable to think in my native tongue, let alone a foreign one.
2) I assumed how one culture interprets another’s cuisine would be the same in a third culture.
In America pizza means a few key things, namely cheap, available in a cheese only (i.e. nonmeat) variety, and single-diner friendly. So when I saw a restaurante labeled “Pizzaria” (not Italian, which of course can imply classier cuisine) I assumed it was the place was for me.
3) Despite my years of experience giving unconventional restaurant guests the “are you sure you want to eat here” look, I let a suspicious hostess lead me to a white tableclothed table for one.
After glancing over the menu quickly, and ignoring that I was the only one not at a table for at least 6, I realized I might be in trouble. I had 20 euros to my name and needed at least 10 for the following day so that I could open a bank account without taking more money (and thus accruing more fees) from my American account. A cheese pizza, a.k.a 7 Formaggi Pizze, cost 11.95 euros.
Luckily when I double-checked my wallet I found a tenner hiding in the folds. Reassured that I wouldn’t have to try to ask in Spanish if I could wash dishes to pay for my meal, I ordered the pizza and a glass of wine. While I waited for my food, the waiter brought out a basket of bread.
4) I ate some of the bread.
SPOILER ALERT: Those few bites cost me 2.35 euros. I’d forgotten that it’s only in America that bread and water come free with the meal.
5) I failed to look at the other tables to see how large the portions of the meals were and was too dumbstruck to ask the waiter.
Enter the largest pizza of my life.
No joke, this was Man vs. Food caliber. But no biggie, right. I can get a doggie back and eat the rest for dinner.
6) I didn’t know if Spain had doggie bags, let alone how to ask for one.
Calculating the possible cost of this meal in dollars I decide I’ll have to eat the whole thing and just stay stuffed through dinner. I considered sneaking some of the bread out in my bag, but my monkey-in-the-zoo appeal had everyone, including the waiter constantly watching me.
7) I let my nerves and discomfort as an outsider get the better of me.
As I began to cut the thin, crispy crust of the pizza this become painfully obvious. First off, the pizza was bigger than the plate it was on, making it structurally unsound for cutting. Flecks of oven-blackened crust began to fly everywhere like splinters from a wood chipper. Things only got messier as I tried to eat the slices and soon I was covered in crumbs and sauce. Wanting this all to just be over, I devoured the entire humungous, granted delicious, pizza in about 15 minutes.
Stunned, the waiter brought me the check. I discovered the bread charge and with an extremely tight waistband, I left the restaurant. With still 2 hours to kill before I had to be at my tutoring gig. I figured I might as well walk off the calories until then, so I took off in no particular direction.
8) I believed the myths about another country.
Probably the biggest mistake of all because just as I gave up the expensive seat/shelter my meal had bought me, it began to rain. In Spain. But not mainly in the plains.
Well played Spain. This round goes to you. But at least I wasn’t pick pocketed.
K learns Spanish Lesson 4
Vino tinto- red wine
Paragua- umbrella.
As in “Mira, una Americana estupida sin una paragua.”
Llaves- keys. Also known as the thing your roommate realizes she forgot the moment you by a large beer at a restaurant a 30 minute walk away.
Nabo- turnip
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