*You’ll have to excuse any editing errors, given my sporadic internet accessibility, there may be some spelling and/or grammatical erros. <—There’s one now.
On my third day in fickle-weathered Madrid, it became apparent that I needed to buy groceries for my apartment. When I first arrived I was so hungry, but most markets were closed due to Dos de Mayo Uprising, so my options were severely limited. I scoured the cupboards for food and made use of what was left behind: half a package of dried noodles and a can of lemon sardines. Let it be known that few things in life are as revolting as canned sardines, namely hairy knuckles on a woman or the joyous laughs of small children. But being desperately ravenous and without any other recourse, I developed a negligibly edible lunch that would definitely besmirch my cooking abilities had anyone else ate a modicum of a nibble. I couldn’t help but think that someone – anyone – on Top Chef could have made better use with these ingredients and ended up throwing out the majority of what was made. The garbage groaned and declared me a mortal enemy.