My New Friend and My First Home-Cooked, Traditional Spanish Meal

A Sunday lunch to be remembered.

Referred by my Aunt Maggie's friend, Alma Schneider, I began a correspondence earlier in the semester with a true Sevillano family woman named Cristina.  Cristina and I, through our countless emails and games of phone tag, were mutually exasperated by the efforts to unite.  I was more readily available for dinner, when I did not have class, but she wanted to do lunch, since it is the more important meal of the Spanish day.  While she wanted to meet during the weekend so I could meet her children and her three American home-stay students, I was busy traveling.  Finally, the afternoon directly after my night at Carnaval in Cádiz, I stumbled and lurched out of bed on about four hours of sleep and headed towards the Estadio Benito Villamarín, the home of one of the two major soccer teams in Seville, Real Betis.  Cristina lives in a fairly suburban little neighborhood of Seville right nearby the stadium, about a 25 minute bicycle ride from my house.  Her neighborhood is full of character, as most of the beautiful, ceramic houses were built as hotels for the presenters and attendees of the Ibero-American Exposition of 1929, a world's fair held in Seville that also fostered the construction of the breathtaking Plaza de España.  Due to its history, the neighborhood is composed of streets with names like Calle Jamaica, Calle Bolivia and Calle Nicaragua, paying homage to the countries that participated in the Expo of '29.

I was greeted at the door by Cristina, a warm, loquacious woman with a large smile constantly plastered to her face, her son Juanito, a typical, well-mannered and reserved Sevillano 17-year old with a passion for "fútbol," and the scraggly, family dog, Teo.  They invited me in, where I met Juan, Cristina's cordial husband, who was toiling over a massive, circular pan of aromatic paella with a smoldering cigarette dangling from his mouth.  Cristina sat me down and immediately encouraged me to eat, as all Spanish hosts have a tendency to do, treating me to fresh olives with bits of anchovies inside, sliced chorizo (Spanish sausage) and runny Brie, accented by a glass of "vino tinto" (red wine).  I snacked a little as Cristina and I spoke face to face for the first time.  She asked me all sorts of questions, showing true interest in my family, my current stay in Seville and all of the trips I had planned.  As we spoke, Juan would walk over and join the conversation, occasionally bringing over books about Brussels or Amsterdam to prepare me for my upcoming travels.  The hospitality of Juan and Cristina to a perfect stranger is a testament to the Sevillano character.  People throughout Seville are very welcoming and kind, treating foreigners (even those with little Spanish-speaking abilities) with the utmost respect, and I felt like an old friend or one of the family right off the bat.

Juan's succulent paella was devoured in record time.

Soon, the rest of the household awoke from their slumbers and came downstairs to join us for lunch on the outdoor patio.  I met Paloma, 14, Cristina's daughter, who reminded me a lot of my own sister Jesse, since the two of them share an intense love of ice cream and blackberries (the phone, not the food).  I also met Robert, Teal and Emily, the three American students who have been staying with Cristina's family since January.  I was able to see how Cristina and Juan, who have been hosting foreign students for nine years, open their arms to the Americans, and our eclectic bunch felt like one huge, dysfunctional family sitting down for Sunday lunch.  Our lunch consisted of Juan's paella, Spanish yellow rice with peppers, shellfish and prawns, which was absolutely fantastic, accompanied by wine, which somehow kept finding its way back into my empty glass.  Everything was capped off by a Spanish version of an ice cream sandwich, in which Cristina cut slices from a block of strawberry and vanilla ice cream and put thin wafers on either side, and a cup of rich, Spanish coffee.  The meal was delicious, and a more than welcome change of pace from the dorm cafeteria.  After the meal, I got the chance to break from speaking Spanish and talk with the American students.  They lamented the far distance to the center of Seville, but said they would not change home-stays for the world.  All three of them sung the highest praises for the entire family, sharing my same enthusiasm for Cristina's infectious laugh, gregarious manner and innate sweetness.  After relaxing on the couch with Cristina, Paloma and Juanito after lunch, I had to say goodbye to the family and make my way back to my residencia for a long siesta.  Cristina told me that I had to come back, but there was no need to tell me twice.  I will definitely be returning to her house for another memorable meal with my new Sevillano friend and her loving, accepting family.

(NOTE: I was in a couple of pictures with Cristina, but she simply forgot to include them in her email.  Hopefully, I will get them soon and be able to include them in this post.)