Cypriots, Pregnancy, And Recouped Losses

The other night, San Geraldo and I drank coffee and had our fortunes told. San Geraldo was told something about a second home ... or selling a home ... or a move. (Noooooo!!!) The good news is that he's about to recoup some losses. Now, that would be nice.

My grounds indicated that I was creative and that I either already have or am soon to have some pain in a toe. Important to know.

Oh, I was also told I have a pregnancy in my own personal future. Yes, that's what he said.

This all happened at a charming restaurant in our friend Kristina's neighborhood called La Cocina Del Cipriota, Taberna Griega (The Cypriot's Kitchen, Greek Tavern). The "coffee grounds reader" is the owner of the restaurant, which has been in Fuengirola for 30 years.

The food was excellent, as was the atmosphere and service. And it was fun for a change to be in a neighborhood away from the beach, the street vendors, and the tourists. We plan to go back often.

We arranged to meet Kristina as she finished her evening walk with Elliot and Ukko — her two dogs (one belongs to her aunt). We went upstairs and enjoyed drinks on their balcony as we watched the sunset over the mountains, the historic hillside town of Mijas in the distance.

AS WE SAT ON KRISTINA'S BALCONY.
(CLICK TO ENLARGE.)

We three then headed over to the restaurant just a couple of blocks away. It wasn't easy to leave our two new pals. Ukko is a year old and acts like a puppy. Elliot is 7 and, when it comes to Ukko, he can be a bit of a curmudgeon. I'm sure I caught him rolling his eyes a couple of times. Elliot is clearly the boss.

KRISTINA'S DOG:  SWEDISH ELLIOT.

SPANISH UKKO (WITH A FINNISH NAME).

KRISTINA AND ELLIOT.

THE UNSAINTLY SAN GERALDO CAN NOW ORDER THIS FOR HIMSELF IN SPANISH:
"A LARGE CHOCOLATE SAUCE WITH A LITTLE BIT OF ICE CREAM."

SAN GERALDO'S HANDS ARE UNUSUALLY LARGE.
THIS WAS A GINORMOUS PARFAIT GLASS. 

ANOTHER OF THE EVENING'S MANY HIGHLIGHTS:  MY TAN JEANS, BROWN  SHIRT,
AND BLACK SHOES MATCHED THE RESTAURANT'S BATHROOM DECOR.
(CLICK HERE TO SEE THE LAST TIME THAT HAPPENED.)

Now, back to the grounds: 
To have our coffee grounds read, we first had to place the saucer atop the coffee cup and flip it over (once we had finished our coffee). I was a bit anxious about this step since, in my book, it qualified as cooking. Oh, yes it did! But I managed on my own — which did not go unnoticed or unappreciated by San Geraldo. We then had to cover the flipped cup with a hand for five minutes. Our host then sat down and read the results.

SAN GERALDO WAS TAKING NO CHANCES.

TOO MUCH PRESSURE FOR SAN GERALDO.

MY CREATIVE HAND.

OUR HOST "READING" ME.
MY SAUCER WAS MESSIER THAN SAN GERALDO'S.  I REALLY HATE TO COOK!

When San Geraldo was told about recouped losses, Kristina, being Swedish, did not know what that meant. I explained it meant to recover or gain back something that was lost (like most of our money). Unfortunately, to San Geraldo it means it's time for him to head back to the casino.

As for my preganancy, I was told that could mean the birth of a new venture. And here I thought I was about to make millions. Pregnant? At my age?

I should have gone back to my friend the witch doctor...

The Return Of The Poles

They're ba-ack. They're probably not from Poland — although I haven't asked them. Whenever I overhear them talking, it usually sounds like Finnish to me (with now and then some English).

What matters is, summer is over, most vacationing Spaniards are back at work, and the city is once again an international destination. And that means, if not Poles, at least "pole walking" has returned to Fuengirola. (Click here for last year's introduction to Nordic Pole Dancing.)

Some people (a very few) do seem to use the walking poles in the intended way. Others (most) seem to simply drag them along. But at least they're all out walking.

While looking for a good Polish polka band, I found this. They're Ukraninian but still...

Food From Around The World

It all started late last week with Alfajores, a specialty sweet from Argentina. Our dear friend Jessica's grandmother is visiting from Argentina and she arrived with lots of goodies, some of which Jessica has kindly shared with me. Alfajores are sandwich cookies (bigger than Oreos) made with cornstarch and held together by a layer of dulce de leche.

FROM ARGENTINA.

APPARENTLY, ALFAJORES ARE NOT ALWAYS COVERED IN CHOCOLATE.
BUT I'M NOT COMPLAINING.

Tuesday, we took the bus to Torrox, a village in the foothills about an hour east of us, to visit with San Geraldo's cousins, Varin and daughter Berit, from Norway (more to come on that). We thought we'd go out to lunch but Vaarin decided we should instead enjoy a meal served on her roof terrace. It was a traditional Norwegian lunch — with a touch of Spain. Sparkling wine for starters. A great assortment for the middle. And persimmons and cherimoya for dessert. I had never before tasted cherimoya. Not a big fan, but it was worth a try. Berit told me they have a competition to see whose cherimoya contains the most seeds. Varin's had 15; Berits, 25; San Geraldo's, 21. I was the big winner with 29 seeds. I asked Berit what I won. "Oh, there's no prize," she said. "But you're the winner."

SO GOOD. VAARIN JUST THROWS IN WHATEVER SHE HAS AROUND.
(SO NO RECIPE...)

POTATOES AND STUFF.

NORWEGIAN SALMON!

EXCEPTIONALLY GOOD IBERIAN HAM.

PERSIMMONS.

THE REMAINS OF MY CHERIMOYA.

My mood was kind of low Wednesday morning. So, knowing that a visit with Ana and family at the fruit market is guaranteed to brighten any day, I joined San Geraldo when he went shopping. Ana had fresh cherimoya for sale. We didn't buy any. But I visited with Ana and her son David and I went back home feeling loved and so grateful to know these wonderful people.

CHERIMOYA AT THE MARKET.

ANA AND DAVID... SPANISH DELICIOUSNESS.

I TRIED TO GET A GOOD SHOT OF DAVID... I WASN'T SUCCESSFUL.
I TOLD HIM I WOULD CALL THIS PHOTO "BOND, JAMES BOND."

And now I understand what Patti Lupone was really singing about: Alfajores!

Putting It Together

I've been collecting fabrics from the streets of Los Boliches and I finally have enough (more than enough) to make a quilt.

Bit by bit...

Same Ship, Different Day

You've probably heard the expression: SSDD. The second word isn't actually "Ship," but at least it rhymes... well, no it doesn't.

I've got nothing of great social and political import to share (not that I ever do). I did see a ship from the terrace. Still, the title's a stretch. Although the sightings were each on a Different Day. They weren't of the Same Ship.

I'm sure there's something profound in all this.

(Click the images to see the big DSDD.)

THAT'S THE COSTA FORTUNA.
(REMEMBER THE COSTA CONCORDIA?)

THE MSC SINFONIA.
(I HAD NEVER HEARD OF MSC CRUISES.)

And while we're on the subject of great social and political import...

Where Mitchell Moves, #2

This is the second in the series "Where Mitchell Moves." (Click here for #1.)

FROM EAST NEW YORK TO NORTH MASSAPEQUA.
(CLICK ANY IMAGE TO ENLARGE.)

In 1956, housing developments were popping up all over Long Island's rural landscape. So, my parents decided to move the four of us from East New York to North Massapequa on suburban Long Island. The Kid Brother was born a few years after we moved. Thanks to him, my father traded in the 1950-something Chrysler DeSoto (a really cool car) for a brand new 1960 Rambler Station Wagon (not very cool but plenty of fun), which Dale immediately christened Old Betsy.

THE SUBURBS. 

My Mother The Dowager Duchess signed Dale up for the Brownies and The Duchess herself became a Girl Scout leader. I was young enough at the time to be taken along to meetings.

When I was of age, I joined the Cub Scouts. In Brooklyn years later, my father decided to be the first scout master of a new Boy Scout troop. So I had to join up.

I definitely preferred the Girl Scouts...

WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO CHILD LABOR LAWS?

I LOOK PRETTY DAPPER FOR A FOUR-YEAR-OLD.
(DALE LOOKS PRETTY FRUMPY FOR SEVEN.)

WITH OSCAR DINGLEHOFFER, OUR PET PARAKEET NAMED BY OUR FATHER.
(FOLLOWED MUCH TOO CLOSELY BY OSCAR DINGLEHOFFER THE SECOND.)

A FEW YEARS LATER... AND BABY MAKES FIVE.
IN BACKGROUND IS ONE OF A HANDFUL OF THE "PRE-SUBURB" HOMES.

THE KID BROTHER BEING TOSSED TO THE CURB
BY THE DOWAGER DUCHESS.
(I'M GOING TO GET IT FOR THAT.)

AS THEY SAY IN NORWAY... UFF DA!

CUTE KID ... BROTHER.

DON'T ASK ME; MY FATHER POSED US.
(AND THE DOWAGER DUCHESS DRESSED US!)

RIGHT AFTER THE PHOTO WAS SNAPPED, THE KID BROTHER
THREW MY METAL CAP GUN AT ME AND GAVE ME A FAT LIP.

A MORE RECENT SHOT FROM GOOGLE MAPS.

The year we moved, Elvis sang about the hotel San Geraldo and I would open more than 40 years later...