Merendola
I don’t think this word exists in English. Landing in Spain I observed that most of my compatriots are chubby-looking people. They look healthy though: red cheeks, cushion-like handles of love on both sides of the belly, smiley Spaniards.
It is time to disclose the reason for our body fat accumulation: the summer merendola.
Merendola comes from the work Merienda. In theory it is a light meal between lunch and dinner. Americans barbacue or picnic, we organize merendolas. At home the summer merendola starts around 7pm with the male of the family (normally the one who has paid for the pork and beef cutlets) lighting the barbacue fire on. There is a lot of expertise surrounding the process of lighting a fire: the men of the house (dad, uncles, granpas) go back to their Rambo boy scout times and each of them has a different opinion on the best way to set the fire. They argue and insult each other. The insults are nice though, after some time abroad I have discovered that my fellow Spaniards have two ways of insulting people: when they mean it and when they don't. Barbacue-time insults luckily belong to the latter category. In the meantime, women prepare the seasoning of the meat (important: it always includes larges amounts of garlic), set the table, cook some Spanish omelets, pour the wine, cut the bread…do pretty much everything, like all women around the world indeed.
The appetizers are a variety of chorizos, cheeses, ham, fried peppers, bread. All those very needed ingredients to keep the fat of your belly happy and alive. There is no formal kick off in the merendola, everybody starts eating at different times, there is a criss-cross of hands around the table, I grab a piece of cheese, you pass me the wine, take some tomato salad, here goes some chorizo to the other side of the table. It is a jovial organized mess. When you start feeling that your stomach is full and the effects of wine have made you take your jacket off and explain some very, very bad jokes, mum informs that the meat is ready and that it is VERY IMPORTANT (she shouts) that you eat the cutlet, sausage or rib warm, otherwise it looses its taste.
Merendolas have a toast but we are all too tipsy and it is always an embarrassing moment. All that toastmaster practice with my Harvard dears is useless with my family. They do not care about my formalism and they are right not to.
Dessert time is an interesting love-hate moment. I love that cake stuffed with heavy cream and dipped in dark chocolate. I hate all the push-ups I am going to need to burn the calories. But…as the Spanish say goes…I will go on a diet first thing on Monday morning. Monday never comes. At home we accompany the sweetness of the desert cake (pasteles) with an even sweeter queimada.
Queimada is a traditional drink from Galicia. I almost always spend a week of summer time in between Portugal and Spain, very close to Galicia province and my family has adopted the queimada ritual. My uncles produce aguardiente (40 vol. alcohol) and we do not really know what to do with it apart from after-lunch digestive drinks. Queimada comes from the Galician word ‘queimar’ which means to burn. The recipe is simple: you burn the alcohol of the aguardiente. I have the steps of queimada and can share them with you, but I would not recommend you to try this at home.
Merendolas might end with singing depending on the company and how much queimada you drink. Just the burning of the alcohol can get you high. Many embarrassing moments could follow. Merendolas might make you fat but they are worth all those extra summer kilos.
It is time to disclose the reason for our body fat accumulation: the summer merendola.
Merendola comes from the work Merienda. In theory it is a light meal between lunch and dinner. Americans barbacue or picnic, we organize merendolas. At home the summer merendola starts around 7pm with the male of the family (normally the one who has paid for the pork and beef cutlets) lighting the barbacue fire on. There is a lot of expertise surrounding the process of lighting a fire: the men of the house (dad, uncles, granpas) go back to their Rambo boy scout times and each of them has a different opinion on the best way to set the fire. They argue and insult each other. The insults are nice though, after some time abroad I have discovered that my fellow Spaniards have two ways of insulting people: when they mean it and when they don't. Barbacue-time insults luckily belong to the latter category. In the meantime, women prepare the seasoning of the meat (important: it always includes larges amounts of garlic), set the table, cook some Spanish omelets, pour the wine, cut the bread…do pretty much everything, like all women around the world indeed.
The appetizers are a variety of chorizos, cheeses, ham, fried peppers, bread. All those very needed ingredients to keep the fat of your belly happy and alive. There is no formal kick off in the merendola, everybody starts eating at different times, there is a criss-cross of hands around the table, I grab a piece of cheese, you pass me the wine, take some tomato salad, here goes some chorizo to the other side of the table. It is a jovial organized mess. When you start feeling that your stomach is full and the effects of wine have made you take your jacket off and explain some very, very bad jokes, mum informs that the meat is ready and that it is VERY IMPORTANT (she shouts) that you eat the cutlet, sausage or rib warm, otherwise it looses its taste.
Merendolas have a toast but we are all too tipsy and it is always an embarrassing moment. All that toastmaster practice with my Harvard dears is useless with my family. They do not care about my formalism and they are right not to.
Dessert time is an interesting love-hate moment. I love that cake stuffed with heavy cream and dipped in dark chocolate. I hate all the push-ups I am going to need to burn the calories. But…as the Spanish say goes…I will go on a diet first thing on Monday morning. Monday never comes. At home we accompany the sweetness of the desert cake (pasteles) with an even sweeter queimada.
Queimada is a traditional drink from Galicia. I almost always spend a week of summer time in between Portugal and Spain, very close to Galicia province and my family has adopted the queimada ritual. My uncles produce aguardiente (40 vol. alcohol) and we do not really know what to do with it apart from after-lunch digestive drinks. Queimada comes from the Galician word ‘queimar’ which means to burn. The recipe is simple: you burn the alcohol of the aguardiente. I have the steps of queimada and can share them with you, but I would not recommend you to try this at home.
Merendolas might end with singing depending on the company and how much queimada you drink. Just the burning of the alcohol can get you high. Many embarrassing moments could follow. Merendolas might make you fat but they are worth all those extra summer kilos.
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