The Vigo Routine

Human Highlighter Suit Tally: 10

By Day 3, we have established our Vigo routine:

1.     Sleep as late as possible.

2.     Get up, eat some breakfast, and putter around for several hours.  I honestly cannot account for what happens between 10 am and 2 pm.

3.     Suddenly it’s 2 o’clock, so you go out with the kids to get some fresh air and a bite—just long enough to say you’ve been out.

4.     Return home in time to receive relatives, and eat some more.

5.     Stay up late talking and snacking.

6.     Go to bed and repeat.

Yesterday, I decided to make a chocolate mousse for dessert.  Raquel had all the ingredients, and I thought it would be a nice change from turron.  The only problem was that there was no electric mixer.  I enlisted Alec and Nick to beat the egg whites, but they still fell a little short of ideal.  Plus, since I had started so late, I wasn’t sure if it would have enough time in the fridge to set up.  Still, it was Julia Child’s recipe—which I highly recommend—so I crossed my fingers.

Our brief outing was to downtown Vigo.  Although the air had a real bite to it, flowers bloomed everywhere—pansies, cyclamen, birds of paradise, and the most amazing camellias.  We walked around, got some ice, and came home just as Raquel’s brother Suso (I’m sure I am spelling this wrong) and his family were arriving.  Raquel and Mila had cooked up a huge batch of giant prawns as an appetizer, and then we had fresh tagliatelle with a sauce of tomatoes, cheese, and more shrimp.  We were supposed to eat the scallops, but no one had remembered to defrost them, so they’re still there. The mousse had not set up completely, but Raquel insisted we serve it anyway, in bowls.  Every last drop got lapped up, even though our guests had also brought pastries from a local bakery—tiny tarts of cream, strawberries, apple, chocolate.  And a dessert wine that tasted like liquid raisins. 

Mila got struck by an awful flu, which caused her to have to lie down as soon as the meal was served—she used her last ounce of strength to feed us.  It turns out that Gena, who had not planned to come that day, got the very same illness.  We did a quick rejiggering of the sleeping arrangements because Mila—who had given up her apartment for all of us and had been staying with a friend—was too sick to go home.  Mila slept with Raquel, C.C. slept with me, Myron slept in C.C.’s bed, and Nick took up his customary post on the couch.  We managed.  C.C. is bigger than Milo, but a much less active sleeper.

I will have to run around the block a few times before we embark for Sicily and start eating pasta and cannolis.