But sometimes, when i get crazy tired of it and i’ve already been to the gym, i cook. Can you believe it? Me neither.
And i realized that i could totally cook something eatable. Something verygood even.

So far, i have made a really tasty burgers from scratch (even the bread!), chocolate fondants with white chocolate sauce and raspberries, 2 pies with carots, ham and goat cheese, a white chocolate/dark chocolate pie for our Friday 13th movie night and just yesterday, little raspberry jam cookies ! Very yummy.

And i’m not gonna stop here. I’m actually starting to enjoy this. Just need to find a way to work a bit faster and to not transform the kitchen into a warzone.

The only problem i can see now is…who’s gonna eat all that?

So I always assumed movies were made to inspire. (and to make money).

One Tuesday Älskling and i went to see New Year’s Eve. I know, i know, quite easy, but i remember how much i had enjoyed Love Actually and it seemed to be kinda similar, bringing all those famous actors together to make something fun for the holidays.

But that was underestimating american’s passion for long life-teaching speeches and clichés.
I had omitted the fact that Richard Curtis was british and that Gary Marshall was american, and that changes everything apparently.

To be brief, i thought New Year’s Eve sucked. Big time. It was boring, there was far too many charachters to actually get time to get to ”know” them, and for most couples, there were no chemistry whatsoever. Oh and Kutcker and Efron as bests friends and roomates? Please ! They are 12 years appart !

But it still gave me something to thing about: Are movies recreating real life romantic moments or do WE creat these moments after having seeing them in romantic movies? In other words, what came first, the chicken or the egg?

I mean, the scene in the elevator with Kutcher and the Glee girl. Who acts like that seriously?
The story between tuxedo guy and Carry Bradshow lady? Who does that? Who postpones happiness for a year?

Is there something wrong with me?
Is it weird that when (if) im stuck in an elevator with a guy, i’m never gonna start singing or pretend that it’s midnight so we can kiss.
Is it weird that when i meet a guy i really like i’m never gonna tell him “let’s see if you still think about me next year” and disappear.
But i still consider myself a romantic person…so where’s the line? Who decides?  Gary, Richard, or us?

As for real life, New Year’s eve rock. Sometimes real life is just better.

In the Disney movie “Princess Rapunzel” (yes i have a very broad range of references), she is about to realize her life long dream and she is scared of what’s gonna happen after that’s done and the guy tells her “Well,that’s the good part I guess. You get to go find a new dream.”

I like that idea. So, sorry Mayas’ calendar but i’ll not stop having new dreams.

My next dream is really down to earth. Finding a job.

Have a wonderful 2012 everyone ! May it be as yummy as this !

Anyway, that’s not the point of this post. You know when you’re doing something and at one point you start thinking about it and you’re not really sure anymore why you’re doing it? Well this week has been kinda like this for me. I had made a list of the things i HAD to do before leaving Madrid. Here it comes:

•  visit royal castle
• visit the Prado Museum
• visit the zoo (they have pandas and it hit me that i had never seen pandas in my life)
• try the chocolate pie from “La mejor tarta de chocolate del mundo” Calle de Alcala
• and so on.

So on Wednesday i queued to get in when it was free (from 3 pm) to visit the castle. It was kinda cool. Some rooms are crazy !
On Tuesday i queued 30 minutes in the cold until 6pm (it’s free from 6 to 8pm everyday). And that’s when i first realized i had no idea why i was doing this. I’ve never been a huge museum fan. I can’t take so many paintings at once i’m just overwhelmed and forget everything super fast.
I think i go because well…you kinda have to go to the Louvre when you’re in Paris, to the Hermitage when you’re in St Petersburg, to the MET in NY and well…to the Prado in Madrid. So i’ve been. And i already cant remember much. But im glad i did in a way. Because…somehow i would have felt like a failure not going. Some stuff were pretty cool, like the Meninas of course, and a sculpture of Hermaphrodite.

On Friday i went to the ZOO. Not that im a huge fan of zoos. It usually makes me a little sad. But im a huge fan of animals. And well, that’s were you get to see them in you cant afford a safari every year. Friday was a cold and rainy day. I was alone and the animals seemed alone too. So i started to talk to them. In spanish of course. Madrid zoo “vale la pena”, is worth it. They have a lot of cool species. Of course, i spent about 30 minutes trying to communicate with the gorillas from behind the glass. They have 8, including 2 tiny babies. Gorillas are the BEST.
And of course i saw the Pandas. eating bambu. Just like a panda does.
They also have a really cool aquarium, usually not my thing but it was the only place with heating   They have HUGE fishes and turtles and lots of sharks. The biggest one is a girl. And they named her….Morgana. Why not.

The i went to try the chocolate pie. It was really good indeed. With like a meringue crust. But it had something of “too perfect”. If that makes any sense.

Anyway…im not sure what i’m saying anymore. I guess it’s like coming here to learn spanish; when i first arrived, everybody was asking me “why are you here? Why do you wanna learn spanish?” And i never really knew what to say, cause i didn’t really have a reason. I just wanted to.

Fun fact about this last pic. Hours later, before going to bed, Dine told me she owed me money. I asked what for. She told me for the cookies and the tea. I said i didn’t pay for that. And apparently she didn’t either. Oups…

• Like i can’t remember the last time i went up the Eiffel Tower, because it’s there and i assume i will always have time to do it.
• I still didn’t see the national museum in Stockholm.
• And up until yesterday, i had no idea why tapas where called tapas.

Well, i’ll now share this newfound knowledge with you my dears:

years and years ago (try centuries ago) the King was an a hunting trip and stopped at a tavern, asked for some wine and when to the bathroom. The innkeeper served a carafe of wine and realized that flies and dirty stuff could get in and well, it was the king’s wine, didn’t really wanna serve him something gross so he cut a little piece of ham that he put on top of the carafe as a cap, which in spanish is called “tapa” or “tapon”…the King came back and enjoyed the wine AND the ham. Hence…the food that they serve you with your drink is now called “tapas” ! 

You’re welcome

Quality time with my family that weekend means:

• cooking together and eating a LOT

• shopping in the only clothes store of the village
• freezing our asses off to enjoy the parade and the fireworks

• organizing a family vote for the election  Miss France (we never get it right)
• Finding beds for every cousins (most of the time you end up sharing with more than 1 person)

• waking up early and pile up on our grandpa’s bed to sing (bad)

• queuing in the hall lined up according to age (starts to be unfair cause the younger guys don’t seem to stop growing)

• entering the living room whose floor is now made of presents

• opening presents !

• eating some more
• trying on the clothes, playing with the games

• going to my aunt and oncle to eat some more
• digestive 3 min walk

• leaving and starting the count down for next year

Yesterday we’ve been to a restaurant for lunch with a bunch of people from my school. One of the many restaurants in Madrid offering 10 euros 3 courses lunch with drink and bread. Love the idea. It usually is a lot of food. Cause here, a 3 courses lunch doesn’t seem to mean “a light entrée” and a main dish. No, it’s basically 2 big main dishes. Plus desert. Plus bread. And since i can’t say no to either bread nor desert and that i’ll eat whatever many plates you bring me…i usually leave those places with the feeling that i’m gonna give birth any seconds. 
Yesterday was like that but if felt like something was missing. The place was…normal, not cute, nothing special, the Tinto de Verano was too strong, the “salad” was basically mayonnaise with an egg, the burger didn’t have bread and well..the desert was good. And when we left the restaurant around 4h i just felt like making myself puke just to feel better. lovely image i know.

that was the first restaurant, nice time eating with friends anyway, eventhough i have no clue who those 2 guys are…

Today, lunch with 14 other people in a restaurant named Gabriel. The place was really cosy, the Tinto de Verano was fresh and nice, the goat cheese/apple salad was amazing, the spinash crêpe was delicious and the small “i can’t remember what it was made of“cake for desert was yummy yummy. And i left the place feeling really good. Not full. Just satisfied. The lunch menu was 12 euros. 
 

Walking around looking for beautiful places…

Xmas shopping or shopping in general

and last but absolutly not least, eating.

This year i got to celebrate it with my friend Claire (from the state of Washington, not the city) and other people from all over the world. It was…a lot of improvisation … and a lot of fun !
First i had planed on baking a pumpkin pie … but it turned out we couldn t find the main ingredients… including pumpkin in cans which, according to the faces of the salespersons, does not exist in Spain.
So i decided to bake a regular cake with strawberries and a lot of chocolate of course.
Well…turned out i under estimated the ability of my oven to burn absolutly everything you put inside. My cake was a desaster. But it was Thanksgiving and there was no way i was giving up. So inspired by Crispin who always seem to be able to make something out of …nothing, i cut the cake in little pieces, scraped the burn parts, covered everything in melted chocolate, hadded M&M”s, tiny kinder eggs, strawberries and gingerbread cookies…and honestly it looked pretty cool !

Claire, on the other hand totally mastered the Sweet Potatoes Soufflet eventhough we are 89% sure what we bought were not sweet potatoes. What the hell, it was freaking yummy.