shopping

Big Jim and I traveled down from the mountain yesterday to the coast for our biweekly shopping trip. We figured we could miss the weekend rush if we went on Friday. But rebaja (sale) season had begun, and the parking lot was jammed. We had a look around the department stores, but in the end we didn't buy anything. I found an Espana soccer tee shirt in the Zara children's shop, but alas none in my niece's size. So we headed to Eroski, which is the big supermarket but we think sounds more like a Polish porn shop. Eroski is technically a hipermercado, and its size can be overwheming at first.  For example, there is one entire aisle of serrano ham legs (we tend to steer our vegetarian friends away from that section) and another just of canned tuna and other assorted seafood. During the Christmas season, a giant, 25-foot Christmas tree of hams is erected in the middle of the store; it really is something one needs to see. We typically only pick up a few things at Eroski. They have a huge fresh seafood counter, for one, and they also sell chicken carcasses and fresh bones for the dogs (I'm a big proponent of raw foods for the pups; search "BARF diet" on the web for info. I've converted at least eight pets so far). Big Jim also likes the garden center, and we never seem to have enough potting soil. I also managed to find two petunia plants for 70 cents each. Brightly colored flowers are a prerequisite in the village; as many as one can fit on the window sills and directly in front of the house itself, the better.  The entire length of our house is lined with plants in big terra cotta pots. After 11 years of living in Philadelphia, at first I used to worry people would steal or vandalize them, but I've gotten over that. The only thing that has been stolen has been some of our herbs, which we keep outside the kitchen window for easy access. But we know the culpable party; it's the shrew of a woman who lives next door. We've been in this house for 18 months, and she's the only neighbor whose name we don't know. She has a permanent scowl afixed to her face and can barely manage lift her head long enough to get out a gruff hola. Big Jim and I on separate occasions caught her first casing the kitchen and pinching some basil and marjoram. She looked so ridulous crouched down and hunched over as she loaded up her apron pockets that we couldn't be angry. So she has garnered our nickname of "Herb thief". But I digress, back at Eroski, Big Jim has found a frying pan he quite likes. Our largest frying pan is in need of replacement, the nonstick finish beginning to flake. I look at the pricetag; it's 29 euros. It's a nice pan, but I tell Big Jim I remember seeing a very similar one at Dunnes, the department store, for 25 euros. I hate quibbling about 4 euros (5 dollars), but in tough times, every euro counts. Big Jim dislikes the reminders that these indeed are tough times and begins to sulk. He now doesn't want the pan. Okay, I say and head to the pasta section. After a couple more minutes of feeling sorry for himself, he rejoins me; his tantrum has passed. We finish up at the Polish porn shop and drive across the road to Lidl, where we buy the bulk of our groceries. Lidl is a no-frills grocery store that has less selection than the larger supermarkets but still carries all the basics and at about 30 to 40% less the cost. The quality is very good, and they encourage recycling (you have to buy plastic bags if you choose to use them, for example), which I also like. Because its a German-owned chain, they carry some of the bratwursts and other sausages that Big Jim misses from his 4 years of living in Munich, another bonus. As I was picking up some coffee, I noticed a set of pots and pans out for display. I inspected it more closely. There were 13 pieces total, all heavy stainless steel, and the set included the frying pan Big Jim and I were arguing about not 30 minutes previously. The price for the entire lot: 38 euros, only 9 euros more than the pan at Eroski's. I called Big Jim over. He approved, agreeing we would find uses for the extra pieces. The box went in the cart, problem solved, and a great bargain to boot. I've been away from the US for too long to remember exactly what a comparable set of German-made pots and pans would cost there, but I know it's a hell of a lot more than $45. We drove up the mountain, happy as clams with our purchases. As we passed through Sayalonga, we noticed the streamers of Spanish and Andalucian paper flags strung across the streets, the tell-tale signs of a village feria in these parts. The same amusement ride and churro vendors will set up shop in our village in just a few days. When Big Jim and I took the dogs for their evening walk last night we realized how quiet the village was for a Friday. The entire town had gone to bed early, resting up for the 5-day party that officially begins Thursday. Can't wait. hasta pronto, mylifeinspain