Surely Meatballs

When I began to study Spanish in the 7th grade at Mark Twain Junior High School in Coney Island, we listened to Spanish conversation records.

A record was a round, flat, hard vinyl thing with a hole in the middle and spiral grooves on the surface. It played music and recordings when a needle was touched to it. I'm not making it up. I swear.

Anyway, the record, which I think was produced by Linguaphone in Rockefeller Center, began with a boy called Juan saying, "Hola, Isabel. ¿Como estás? (Hi, Isabel. How are you?)

I remember little after that opening until a conversation about what Juan's mother was serving for lunch. Isabel asked and Juan responded sadly, "Seguro que albóndigas." (Surely meatballs.) I guess Juan's mother made meatballs all too often. For some reason that one phrase has always stuck with me and, whenever I have albondigas, it comes to mind. So, what did I have for dinner Tuesday night at Meson Salvador? Happily, !Seguro que albondigas! 

SEGURO QUE ALBÓNDIGAS (Y PAPAS FRITAS).

I used to vary my order at Meson Salvador. But I hadn't had their albondigas for a long time and they're exceptional. However, instead of his usual (every single time without varying) bull's tail and French fries, the ever-slimming San Geraldo, now 40 pounds/18 kilos lighter (What a man!), had a new-to-the-menu grilled seafood and vegetable skewer (with more grilled vegetables on the side). It was beautiful and delicious.

HEALTHY AND DELICIOUS.
BUT THE LANGOSTINOS HAD TO BE PEELED.  IN MY BOOK, THAT'S COOKING.

San Geraldo's diet has been of tremendous benefit to us both. I usually eat very healthily along with him. And, since he's no longer drinking any alcoholic beverages, I get both complementary after-dinner drinks wherever we go. It's not easy, but it's a sacrifice I'll continue to make for San Geraldo's well-being. What a man!

AFTER FINISHING MY VERY LARGE GIN AND TONIC, I HAD TO DRINK BOTH SHOTS.