Now would be the point where we share pictures of pasta on vibrant ceramic plates, or paella bursting with weird looking seafood, with one of us sitting at the cafe, with the city scene behind us, holding a glass of wine or espresso. If you expect that, you have not been paying attention.
Instead, it is time for an updated food blog (first one from 11/30/2018). https://chosenfugue.wordpress.com/2018/11/30/obligatory-food-blog/

Despite travel to food Meccas, our eating habits have not really changed. Pre Covid we didn’t venture out much to restaurants, and because we are us, we still don’t. We ate at restaurants (outside) 4 times over the 3 months; sushi in Valencia (when we had to be out of the apartment for the housekeeper), Pizza in Genoa & Naples, plus fish in Lisbon on our last night. Take-out 6 times (4 of those pizza) and usually on travel days. Wondering if we were missing out on some travel magic by not going out was quickly disregarded due to the awkwardness of restaurant ordering (even with picture menus) plus our love of going to local markets.



Going to the market is one of our favorite things to do. We probably remember certain markets better than certain museums or churches. We probably remember cheese displays better than art or altars. After a day of exploring, we did not discuss art or religion, but rather the many shapes of pasta or new flavor of yogurt. Although we generally buy the same five basic items and make the same five basic meals in every city, going to the market never failed to be an adventure; intriguing presentation, confusing foods and varying variety made shopping simultaneously easy and difficult, but always entertaining.
Our enjoyment starts with the anticipation of google-mapping the closest market when we arrive. Do we try a new market like a Mercadano or Dia (Spain), Essalunga, Pam or Eurospin (Italy) or go with the familiar like Carrefour, Aldi or Lidl? We can recognize a chain market’s logo from 2 km’s away.

With the exception of a few “super-stores” , often at the edge of town, or groceries taking up an entire floor (usually the basement) of a department store, almost all European markets are small, not much bigger than an AM/PM. There’s plenty of room for essentials, once you remove the aisles and aisles of American sweetened cereals, candy, salad dressings and 20 choices of every item, which we don’t appreciate or use in the US. The narrow aisles frowned on indecision, after you enter the labyrinth of one way aisles that end at the checkout stand, you often can’t go back. Confusion, poor translation, overstimulation would force us to try to swim back up-aisle, or check out and re-enter the store for a new lap.

Waiting in the checkout line provided its own level of enjoyment combined with trepidation. Our reusable market bag out and visible, we would avoid the first question (we think) of needing a bolsa/sac/or borsa. Then we would start bagging, smile, nod a lot, add an occasional (probably always inappropriate) laugh and show them our credit card. Once in Croatia a checker asked if that was Bob Marley on our credit card.

What did we buy? We ate “authentically”, kind of, looking for traditional and local where we could. Bomba and calasparra rice in Spain, borlotti beans in Italy, pesto in Genova, tarallini in Naples, and any chocolate made in whatever country we are in.



Would it be embarrassing to say that one of the highlights was a great frozen GF pizza in Italy? Or embarrassing that Nick bought and enjoyed frozen paella (twice) in Marseille since we were unable to make a reservation to have it in Valencia, the home of paella (Christmas time apparently is popular for paella)? Or embarrassing that the best polenta ever eaten was the prepared polenta we bought at the Pam markets?
Cheese was an ongoing surprise as we never quite knew what we were buying, but it was always great and we met some new ones, mixed milk cheese in Spain was something we did not know existed https://www.tasteatlas.com/spain/mixed-milk-cheeses.

Even our “basics” looked or tasted differently from city to city and country to country; eggs, yogurt, pasta, tinned fish, vegetables, fruit, walnuts (Nick), chocolate (Patricia). We always found what we needed and did not desire any food from an American market, although we had to adapt to the dearth of frozen berries/cherries (Europe seems to love their frozen currants) for our yogurt and the absence of sunflower butter to spread on our main staple, the corn/maiz thins/cakes/tortititas/waffein/galletas which we are now the foremost international expert of.

While we generally favored each country’s chain market, we did go to a few gluten free bakeries , even though every market, no matter how small, had gluten free items. Unlike the US, gluten free products were consistently priced equivalently to the gluten full products (even the beer) and were good (except for the piadina, pictured above).



We would cook in a variety of different kitchen constellations, but always equipped with badly scratched Ikea pans, blue or white Ikea plates and blue or green Ikea mugs. Ikea kitchen equipment, is more ubiquitous than the ubiquitous Roman ruins since Ikea conquered more territory .


Taking inspiration from the artistically arranged prepared foods at the market and the many restaurant menus read but not accessed, we combined disparate ingredients creating our fusion meals like tinned fish+vegetables+ whatever cheese on pasta or borsotti bean and provolone nachos and travel day scones- yogurt + oatmeal+ whatever we have left . Even with our extensive market exposure, there was always something that turned our heads but fortunately not our stomachs since we left these on the shelf.







































































































































































































