"But don't you miss the US?" & patatas a lo pobre

This has been a question posed to me countless times since I moved to Spain, by Americans, Spanish, English, Germans alike. The answer is not simple. Before I came to Spain, I lived in Philadelphia, PA for 11 years. To many people, Philadelphia is that lost city between New York and Washington DC, lacking the style and culture of NYC and the political power of DC. For this reason, some believe Philadelphia suffers a bit of an inferiority complex. Those who live there for any length of time realize this is not the case and that Philadelphia is a treasure of its own. During those 11 years in Philadelphia, I created a very nice life for myself. My publishing career was successful; I had a great apartment in Center City and a fabulous circle of supportive and fun friends. I lived near several live music clubs, so I just had to stumble a few blocks home after a night of listening to the latest of the local bands, and there were three art house movie theatres within a 15-minute walk. Restaurants, markets, pizza joints, salons, day spas, boutiques, art galleries...all right outside the door. I lived in the shadows on the Ben Franklin Bridge, which spans the Delaware River, linking Pennsylvania to New Jersey. The BF Bridge is one of my favorite architectural landmarks in Philadelphia. On a clear, sunny day, if one stands at the corner of 5th and Race, looking east, the bridge's enormous swooping curves can be best admired. But I'm digressing....what do I miss about the US? Good pizza, bagels...I've had neither here. My family, friends....obvious. Going to the movies....we have to travel 10 miles down a very precarious mountain road to the coast to the local multiplex, which unfortunately only shows the latest Hollywood blockbusters. Diners...one of my favorite places in Philadelphia is the Melrose Diner (if you've never been, check out their web site www.melrose-diner.com, and buy some of their cookies; my 92-year-old grandmother swears they are the best she's ever had). Not only does the Melrose have great food and the mystique of being a bit of a Mob hangout but it also provides an environment where people from all walks of life gather over a cup of their fabulous diner coffee and a slice of apple pie. The Melrose has a reputation of treating their employees very well, and as a result, many of the waitstaff have been there for 30+ years. They're always quick to spot a newcomer: when I took the Big Jim there for the first time, our waitress Patricia greeted him with, "You're not from South Philly, are you?" I don't suppose his English accent gave him away.... So yes, there are things that I miss about the US, but the longer I stay away, the more I see about the US that I dislike...the overconsumption, the ridiculously enormous houses, the wastefulness, the violent crime. And as globalization spreads, more and more American goods are available in Spain. You can imagine my shock-horror on seeing an Oscar Mayer weinermobile parked at our local shopping center last summer, for example. I thought I would never be able to find good Vietnamese food here, but most of the supplies are now available at the larger supermarkets, so I've become quite skilled at making my own summer rolls. Well, I must be off to walk the dogs. In addition to the "precious Boo," the dog I brought with me from the US, we have acquired a Spanish abandonero, a mix of Doberman and something very small, nicknamed "Mr. Beebs." They are great friends and love playing on the old goat track on the edge of town. They can run freely there; in the warmer weather, like now, Mr. Beebs especially loves to run through the ancient irrigation ditches the farmers still use to water their terrace plots. Typically on summer Sundays, Big Jim and I head off to the beach. We pack a simple lunch, pick up a copy of the London Sunday Times, and spend a relaxing day on the edge of the Med. Today, however, we've been invited by our friends J. and M. for lunch and a dip in their pool. They are from Holland, and some of our closest friends here...just wonderful people. Before I go, I want to pass along one of our favorite Sunday brunch recipes, patatas a lo pobre, which essentially translates to "poor man's potatoes." This area of Spain suffered tremendous poverty for many, many years, and this was a diet staple. Here's what you need: four large potatoes three green Italian peppers one onion 1/2 to 1 cup of olive oil (this can vary; most Spanish go more heavy on the oil) garlic (again, this can vary depending on how much you love garlic; we usually use five or six cloves) Slice the potatoes thinly and soak in water for about 20 minutes (gets rid of the extra starch). Coarsely chop the peppers and onions. We often don't peel the garlic entirely, just removing the outer skin and leaving the clove whole. You may peel, if you prefer. Using a large, deep frying pan, heat the oil (medium heat), and add the peppers, onions, and garlic. When the onions and peppers have softened a bit (about 5 minutes), add the potatoes. You want to cook them slowly, so lower the heat. When they are cooked through, salt and pepper, and enjoy! You may add bacon or chorizo if you prefer, but as one local elderly woman reported, her family was so poor, they only could afford to eat meat once or twice a year. So to be most authentic, skip the meat. Hasta pronto, mylifeinspain