The last of the Reina Claudias

Human Highlighter Suit Tally: 9

If you exit my office building, turn left, walk two blocks and then turn right on the Rambla de Poblenou, you’ll reach the Mediterranean in about 12 minutes.  Having woken to bright sun after two days of blustery wetness, I took exactly that walk this afternoon. The sea is a wonder, and I feel more fully myself whenever I get myself near it.  A paved path runs forever at the edge of the beach, and it is among my favourite places to walk in this city.  The beach attracts the same cast of characters it does in Asbury Park—the skateboarders, people with dogs, solitary thinkers, and fortune seekers with their metal detectors.  All peacefully coexisting.

Living in a city as fabulous as Barcelona is unspeakably satisfying, and to have it sitting on a beach is almost too much to bear.

* * *

When we first arrived in Barcelona in August, we went to the Mercat Galveny with Myron and Raquel to check it out. It being August, most of the stalls were closed, but we found a produce stand open and stopped to pick up a few things.  Raquel spotted a basket of small, yellow-green plums, bought a half kilo, and insisted that I eat one right then and there.  The sweet-tangy flavour stopped me cold.  I closed my eyes and let the juice fill my mouth and run down my throat.  It tasted plummy, to be sure, but unlike any plum I had ever tasted.  Perfumey and delicate and complex.  Flesh that is soft but not mushy.  It was a Reina Claudia.

After that, I made sure we always had some in the house, although I found that they spoil quickly.  Reina Claudias are about the size of apricots, so it is easy to eat several at a clip, and I did.  Then, as happens with all fruit, the season seemed to end.  You could still find them at the market, but they looked shrivelly and wan.  I left them there, and moved on to pomegranates and figs.  But one day, as I made my purchases, I saw a beautiful little basked of the lovelies, and they looked perfect.

“I thought the Reina Claudia season had ended,” I said to the vendor.

“These are the last ones,” she told me.

Of course, I could not resist.  I bought them and opened the package as soon as I got home.  I should have known better.  Beautiful on the outside, but brown on the inside, the flavour past.  I suppose the fact that I can’t always have them makes me enjoy them all the more when I can.

The markets are now overflowing with persimmons.  I have never done much with persimmons, so figuring out what to do with them will be my next adventure.  Stay tuned.