When I was ten, my arch-enemy was rotisserie chicken.
A staple dinner item in my house, I couldn’t stomach the sight of its protruding bones and
floppy, seasoned skin. The food resembled something so close to living, my overactive imagination
couldn’t bear to approach it. Once, I even went on a hunger strike to avoid going anywhere near the
Walmart special.
Fast-forward to my first night here in Barcelona, Spain. My host family invited all their family
over for a fiesta, each touting a dish of their own making. (If there’s one thing Spaniards have mastered,
it’s how to welcome and celebrate their way through life!) By the end of the night, when I was near
bursting, my host dad exited the kitchen with a large bundle in his arms: “You want to see what you’ve
been eating?”
Spanish Culture Hidden Behind a Blanket
Before I could respond, he pulled back the blanket to reveal a thick pig’s leg – hoof, leg hairs,
and all – sliced in the center where we’d been pulling the meat I’d been snacking on all night. As a
dainty, ex-enemy of rotisserie chicken, I couldn’t have been more appalled.
Yet, as my host family was quick to inform me, cuisine in Spain is synonymous with culture,
and our pig leg was no exception. This thick and savory snack called jamón serrano is a classic food
present at any real celebration. After our party, the pig’s leg was set on the counter next to the fruit bowl,
where it stayed for weeks, gradually dwindling as we incorporated it into breakfast, merienda, and
dinner.
My confidence, too, gradually grew. I cut chunks of the pig leg, went shopping at the
pescadería, and even cheffed up a paella (with the shrimps’ eyes staring back at me!).
Embracing Spanish culture has, to me, looked first and foremost like embracing the cuisine. Of
course, I still might opt for pancakes instead of mussels or a sandwich instead of crab, but, now, my
food is more afraid of me than I am of it.
