This is a partial photo of what I managed to put in my grocery basket after wandering the long aisles of 99 Ranch the other day, the grocery store for all things Asian in Plano. It’s like what Tang Freres in Paris would be if, I guess, it were here — a bigger, more inclusive, store with lots of space, and aisles so wide you could drive a Mini Cooper through.
Friendships and food are a funny thing, especially when they’re tightly linked to a particular place. Primo’s on McKinney Avenue was, for more than a decade or so I guess, where I met everyone at one time or another. I went there for first dates and anniversaries. To celebrate birthdays. To mourn deaths. For no reason at all.
I’ve just spent a week and a half in Spain, which began with a brief visit to Seville and ending with nearly a full week in Madrid. I’ve been to Spain a few times before, but not for this long…which now seems far too short.
It is always a good idea when in Spain to eat jamon Iberico de bellota, the ham that comes from the pata negra (black foot) pigs, who, by the way, are also black all over — which is in part why the meat is so dark, along with the acorns (bellota) that these free-ranging in the forests pigs eat.
Besides the availability of tacos on practically every street corner in Dallas, one of the things I missed about Texas every summer while in Paris was the peaches.
